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THE OPEN ROAD 
LIBRARY OF JUVENILE 
LITERATURE 



QUAINT OLD STORIES 

TO READ AND ACT 


BY 

MARION FLORENCE LANSING, M.A. 

* n 


ILLUSTRATED BY 

CHARLES COPELAND 



GINN AND COMPANY 

BOSTON • NEW YORK • CHICAGO • LONDON 


COPYRIGHT, 1912, BY MARION FLORENCE L^SJN^f 
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED ' 


VL>> 


912.8 


THE 

OPEN ROAD LIBRARY 

BY 

MARION FLORENCE LANSING 
Each volume, 35 cents 


RHYMES AND STORIES 

FAIRY TALES 
Volume I 
Volume II 

QUAINT OLD STORIES 
TALES OF OLD ENGLAND 
LIFE IN THE GREENWOOD 
PAGE, ESQUIRE, AND KNIGHT 


CEfre gtfrengum JJresa 


GINN AND COMPANY • PRO- 
PRIETORS • BOSTON • U.S.A. 


PREFACE 


Much of the best traditional literature is essentially 
dramatic. Animals meet and talk, kings discourse 
with their subjects, rich men and poor men bring 
their cases before wise judges, fairies in disguise 
search the hearts of men by their questions, and even 
the pot and the kettle converse. To meet the call for 
dramatic material for children’s use, thirty stories have 
been gathered from the literature of all countries, and 
set in dramatic form for reading and acting. They 
are not plays, though many of them could easily be 
staged. They are, as the title indicates, "quaint old 
stories," in which so much of the action is carried on 
by conversation that it has needed only a retouching 
to make them dramatic in form as well as in spirit. 

Great care has been taken in the arrangement of 
these tales to make them as satisfactory for reading 
as for dramatic reproduction. All explanatory matter 
which is essential to an understanding of the story 
has been put into the same type as the speeches. 


vi QUAINT OLD STORIES 

When the story is being read, the teacher, or a child 
who represents the story-teller, will read these action- 
sentences (which are set off by spaces), and the story 
will move smoothly as a connected narrative. When 
the story is to be acted, these explanatory paragraphs 
will drop out naturally, giving way to the action which 
they describe. At the beginning of the dramatized 
stories the number of " parts ” — that is, of characters 
appearing in each — has been indicated. 

To dwell upon the literary form in which these 
tales are presented, without a word as to the subject 
matter, would be to do the collection an injustice. It 
is the distinction of these stories, as of all true litera- 
ture, that their setting is so much a part of themselves 
that the story, with its wit or wisdom or kindly deed, 
is what the reader will grasp and hold. 

M. F. L. 


Cambridge, Massachusetts 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

THE WISE MEN OF GOTHAM i 

From Two English Drolls 

THE SPARROW AND THE CROW 8 

A Punjab Tale 

SCANDAL 14 

A Dialogue 

BELLING THE CAT 16 

From an -Esop Fable 

THE WOODCUTTER AND THE FAIRY 21 

From an Esop Fable 

THE HEDGEHOG 27 

Anonymous 

SEEING THE WORLD 28 

From an English Tale 

THE COCK AND THE FOX 32 

From an Esop Fable 

THE DISCONTENTED BLACKSMITH 34 

From a Siamese Story 

HOW CLAUS WON THE PRINCESS 38 

From a Danish Story 

AT THE OWL’S SCHOOL 44 

From an Indian Fable 

THE LAMBIKIN 46 

A Punjab Tale 

THE POOR MAN AND THE RICH MAN 51 

From an Oriental Story 

ONE MINUTE AT A TIME 54 

From Jane Taylor’s " The Discontented Pendulum ” 

vii 


viii QUAINT OLD STORIES 

PAGE . 

WHAT THE GOODMAN DOES IS ALWAYS RIGHT 61 
From a Hans Andersen Story 

THE MAN’S BOOT 71 

From an Eastern Tale 

PEASIE AND BEANSIE 75 

A Punjab Story 

TOM TIT TOT 84 

From an English Folk Story 

SHEIK CHILLI 96 

A Simla Tale 

THE RICH MAN’S GUEST 98 

From an Oriental Story 

THE BRAHMAN, THE TIGER, AND THE SIX 

JUDGES 101 

From a Hindu Tale 

THE TRAVELERS AND THE HATCHET 109 

From an ^Esop Fable 

THE SILLY OLD MAN no 

An English Ballad 

SIR BUMBLE 114 

A Punjab Tale 

NEWS 131 

An English Droll 

THE STONE OF GRATITUDE 134 

From an Oriental Legend 

THE FLIGHT OF THE BEASTS 141 

From a Jataka Tale 

THE BARMECIDE FEAST 149 

From an Arabian Nights’ Story 

LITTLE BESS, THE BALLAD GIRL 159 

Three Seventeenth-Century Ballad Songs 


NOTES . 


• • 175 

























' * 








' 




















QUAINT OLD STORIES 


THE WISE MEN OF GOTHAM 

Two Drolls 

I 

( Three Parts) 

It is market day at Nottingham. Two men 
of Gotham meet on Nottingham bridge. 

The One. Well met. 

The Other. Well met indeed. 

T he One. Where have you been ? 

The Other. To Nottingham; and whither 
are you a going ? 

The One. Marry, I am going to the market 
to buy sheep. 

The Other. Buy sheep; and which way 
will you bring them home ? 

The One. Marry, I will bring them home 
over this bridge. 


2 QUAINT OLD STORIES 

The Other. By Robin Hood, but thou 
shalt not. 

The One. By Maid Marian, but I will. 

The Other. Thou shalt not. 

The One. I will. 

The Other. Tut here. 

The One. Tut there. 

The Other ( drawing his stave), I shall 
not let them pass. 

The One ( drawing his stave). You had 
better let my sheep pass. 

The Other (waving his stave as if he were 
driving sheep back). Hold there! Back! Back! 

The One. Beware lest my sheep leap over 
the bridge into the water. 

The Other. I care not. 

The One (standing in the middle of the 
bridge and waving his stave as if to drive 
sheep on). They shall all come this way. 

The Other (waving as if to drive them 
back). But they shall not, I say. 

A third man of Gotham steps on the bridge, 
coming from Nottingham with a heavy sack 
on his back. 


THE WISE MEN OF GOTHAM 


3 


The Third. Hold hard ! what s all this ? 

The One. He says I shall not drive my 
sheep over this bridge. 

The Other. No more he shall. 

The One ( waving his stave again i). But 
I will. 

The Other ( waving his stave). Thou 
shalt not. 

The Third. One minute. Where are the 
sheep ? 

The One. I am on my way to market to 
buy them. 

The Third. Ah, fools! will you never 
learn wit? Watch me! Ye see this sack 
of meal. 

The One. I do. 

The Other. And I. 

The third man goes to one side of the 
bridge, unlooses the mouth of the sack, and 
shakes out the meal into the river. 

The Third. Now, neighbors, how much 
meal is there in the sack? 

The One. Marry, none. 

The Other. None at all. 


4 


QUAINT OLD STORIES 


The Third. Now, by my faith, even so 
much wit is there in your two heads, to 
strive concerning that thing which you 
have not. 

The Three [together). 

This question now we leave to thee, 
Which is the wisest of all us three ? 


II 

[Seven Parts) 

Twelve men of Gotham are walking along 
the road, each with a fishpole over his 
shoulder or a fishline in his hand. 

First. We did not get any fish, but we 
have worked wonderful hard this day a 
fishing. 

Second. Aye, and we have ventured won- 
derful hard this day in wading. I pray God 
that none of us may have come out from 
home to be drowned. 

First. Nay, marry, let us see to that, for 
there did twelve of us come out. 


THE WISE MEN OF GOTHAM 5 

Second. ’T is so. There were twelve. Let 
me count. Come, all of you, stand ye still 
a moment while I count you. ( Counts , telling 
off each one on his Jingersi) One, two, three, 
four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven. 
Marry, there are but eleven. Alas, alas ! one 
of us has been drowned. 

Third. Nay, that cannot be. Let me 
count. Stand ye still. Now, one, two, three, 
four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten — Marry, 
’t is true, there is but one left — eleven ! One 
of us is surely drowned. 

Fourth. Nay, it cannot be. We should 
have known it. Stand ye all in a row, and I 
will stand opposite to you, and count you. 
There, none can escape me now. One, two, 
three, four, five, six — ( more slowly ) seven — 
eight — nine — t-e-n — e-lev-en. Faith, ’t is 
true. I would not have believed it, but one 
of us is drowned. 

Fifth. ’T is a sorry day for Gotham. 

Sixth. Nay, perhaps he is not drowned. 
Let us go back and look for him. 

All. Well said. We will go back. 


6 


QUAINT OLD STORIES 


As they are going along the road, making 
great lamentation, a courtier comes riding by. 

Courtier. Why do you lament so loudly, 
and what are you looking for ? 

First. Alas ! this day we went to fish in 
the brook, and there came out twelve of us, 
and one of us must be drowned. We are 
looking for him. 

Courtier. Why, tell me how many there 
be of you. 

Second. There be but eleven. Each one 
of us has counted. 

Third. Aye, each one of us, and there 
are but eleven. 

Courtier. But eleven! Is it so? Well, 
what will you give me if I find out twelve 
men ? 

Fourth. Sir, all the money we have got. 

Courtier. Will you truly now? Think, 
it is a great service I will do you. 

All. Aye, aye, sir, we will. 

Courtier. Stand ye in a row, and let each 
one hold his money in his right hand. Now 
I will take it. ( Goes to the first , takes his 


THE WISE MEN OF GOTHAM 


7 


money , gives him a slap on the hand ’) Here 
is one ! ( Goes to the second ' and so on down the 
line) Here is two! Here three! Here four! 
Here five! Here six! Here is seven! And 
here eight ! Here nine ! And ten ! Eleven ! 
( Pauses for a moment .) And here is the 
twelfth man ! 

Fifth. Praise be ! 

Sixth. God be thanked! None of us is 
drowned. 

Courtier. Farewell. I must away. 

Second. God’s blessing on thy heart, sir, 
for finding our brother. 

All. Farewell, and thank thee. 

Courtier ( laughing to himself \ as he goes 
off). They all counted, and not one of them 
counted himself. 



THE SPARROW AND THE CROW 

A Sparrow and a Crow once agreed to 
have kedgeree 1 for dinner. So the Sparrow 
brought rice, and the Crow brought lentils, 
and the Sparrow was cook, and when the 
kedgeree was ready, the Crow stood by to 
claim his share. 

" Who ever heard of any one sitting down 
to dinner so dirty as you are ? ” quoth the 
Sparrow scornfully. "Your body is quite 
black, and your head looks as if it were 
covered with ashes. For goodness gracious’ 
sake, go and wash in the Pond first.” 

1 Kedgeree (kej'er e), a dish of lentils and rice, cooked with 
boiled butter, much used in India. 

8 


THE SPARROW AND THE CROW 


9 


The Crow, though a little put out at being 
called dirty, thought it best to comply, for 
he knew what a determined little person 
the Sparrow was. So he went to the Pond 
and said: 

" Your name, sir, is Pond, 

But my name is Crow. 

Please give me some water, 

For if you do so 
I can wash beak and feet 
And the nice kedgeree eat — 

Though I really don’t know 
What the Sparrow can mean, 

For I’m sure, as Crows go, 

I ’m remarkably clean ! ” 

But the Pond said : " Certainly I will give 
you water, but first you must go to the 
Deer, and beg him to lend you a horn. 
Then with it you can dig a nice little rill for 
the water to flow in clean and fresh.” 

So the Crow flew to the Deer and said : 

" Your name, sir, is Deer, 

But my name is Crow. 

Oh, give me a horn, please, 


io QUAINT OLD STORIES 

For if you do so 
I can dig a clean rill 
For the water to fill ; 

Then I ’ll wash beak and feet 
And the nice kedgeree eat — 

Though I really don’t know 
What the Sparrow can mean, 

For I ’m sure, as Crows go, 

I ’m remarkably clean ! ” 

But the Deer said, " Certainly I will give 
you a horn, but first you must go to the 
Cow, and ask her to give you some milk for 
me to drink. Then I shall grow fat, and not 
mind the pain of breaking my horn.” 

So the Crow flew off to the Cow and said : 
" Your name, ma’am, is Cow, 

But my name is Crow. 

Oh, give me some milk, please, 

For if you do so 
The pain will be borne, 

Deer will give me his horn, 

And I ’ll dig a clean rill 
For the water to fill ; 

Then I ’ll wash beak and feet 


THE SPARROW AND THE CROW 1 1 

And the nice kedgeree eat — 

Though I really don’t know 
What the Sparrow can mean, 

For I’m sure, as Crows go, 

I ’m remarkably clean ! ” 

But the Cow said, " Certainly I will give 
you milk, only first you must bring me some 
Grass, for who ever heard of a cow giving 
milk without Grass ? ” 

So the Crow flew to some Grass and said : 
" Your name, sir, is Grass, 

But my name is Crow. 

Oh, give me some blades, please, 

For if you do so 
Madam Cow will give milk 
To the Deer sleek as silk, 

The pain will be borne, 

He will give me his horn, 

And I ’ll dig a clean rill 
For the water to fill ; 

Then I ’ll wash beak and feet 
And the nice kedgeree eat — 

Though I really don’t know 
What the Sparrow can mean, 


12 


QUAINT OLD STORIES 


For I ’m sure, as Crows go, 

I ’m remarkably clean ! ” 

But the Grass said, " Certainly I will give 
you Grass, but first you must go to the 
Blacksmith and ask him to make you a 
sickle. Then you can cut me, for who ever 
heard of Grass cutting itself ? ” 

So the Crow went to the Blacksmith 
and said : 

" Your name, sir, is Smith, 

But my name is Crow. 

Please give me a sickle, 

For if you do so 
The Grass I can mow 
As food for the Cow ; 

Madam Cow will give milk 
To the Deer sleek as silk, 

The pain will be borne, 

He will give me his horn, 

And I ’ll dig a clean rill 
For the water to fill ; 

Then I ’ll wash beak and feet 
And the nice kedgeree eat — 

Though I really don’t know 


THE SPARROW AND THE CROW 


What the Sparrow can mean, 
For I ’m sure, as Crows go, 

I ’m remarkably clean ! ” 



" With pleasure,” said the Blacksmith, " if 
you will light the fire and blow the bellows.” 

So the Crow began to light the fire and 
blow the bellows, but in so doing he fell right 
into the middle of the fire and was burnt. 

So that was the end of him, and the 
Sparrow ate the kedgeree after all. 


SCANDAL 

( Dialogue by Two Little Girls) 

" What do you think ? ” 

" I ’m sure I don’t know ! ” 
“ Don’t tell anybody ! ” 

"Oh, no! Oh, no!” 

“ Somebody told me, 

That some one else said 
That So and So told them 
(You won’t tell what I said? ”) 

" Oh, no ! I won’t tell, 
What is it ? Oh, dear ! 
The way that you tell it 
Is really so queer! ” 

" Oh, yes ! But have patience, 

I ’ll tell you in time, 

But I have to make it 
All fit into rime. 

Now don’t tell anybody, 

Because if you do, 

My secrets, the next time, 

I ’ll not tell to you ! ” 


14 







BELLING THE CAT 

( Eight Parts) 

The mice are holding a council in the barn. 

Big Mouse. Will some one tell me what 
this council is for ? 

Gray Mouse. Yes, Big Mouse, we have 
met together to consider what we can do 
about the Cat. 

Big Mouse. Ah, thank you. I am glad I 
could come. It is an important subject. 

Gray Mouse. I am ready now to hear 
what any one has to say about our enemy 
the Cat. 

Mother Mouse. I complain for my family. 
They are all getting thin. There is just as 
much grain in the stalls as there ever was, 
but no one dares to get it, because so many 
have lost their lives in trying. 

Father Mouse. And while we and our 
children are getting thin, the Cat is getting 
fat and sleek. 

16 


BELLING THE CAT 


17 


House Mouse. It is just the same in the 
house. The Cat lies in the sun and sleeps 
and purrs all day because she is so com- 
fortable and well-fed. But at night she is 
out catching and eating mice. 



Gray Mouse. We need not say any more. 
We all know that the Cat is the one fear and 
danger of our lives. If it were not for her, 
we should be happy. The question is, what 
can we do about it ? 

Big Mouse. Yes, that is what I am wait- 
ing to hear. What can we do about it ? 


1 8 QUAINT OLD STORIES 

Little Mouse. If we knew when she was 
coming, we should be all right. We can run 
as swiftly as she, and we could get away. 
But she moves so softly that we can hear 
nothing, and then all of a sudden she 
pounces upon one of us. 

Father Mouse. Yes, that is the trouble. 

Big Mouse. We all know that, but what 
can be done? We cannot get rid of the Cat, 
because we are not strong enough or big 
enough to drive her away. 

Young Mouse. You all say the trouble 
is that we do not know when she is coming. 
If we knew where she was, we should not 
be caught. Am I right? 

Gray Mouse. That is what we are all 
agreed upon. 

Young Mouse. I have a plan. Why not 
hang a bell round the Cat’s neck? Then, 
when she moves, the bell will ring, and we 
shall hear it and have time to run away. 

Little Mouse. The very thing ! 

Mother Mouse. Why has no one thought 
of it before ? 


BELLING THE CAT 


19 


Father Mouse. No more hungry children. 
We will bell the Cat. 

Gray Mouse. You have heard this plan. 
Are you agreed ? Shall we bell the Cat ? 
All. Yes, let us bell the Cat. 

Big Mouse. No more fear of the Cat! 
For once I shall have all I want to eat. 

Gray Mouse. We thank you, Young 
Mouse. You have saved us all. 

Wise Old Mouse. That is all very well, 
but I have a question to ask. Who will bell 
the Cat? 

There is a long silence. No one speaks 
or moves. 

Young Mouse. I have done my part. I 
had the idea, and that is all that can be ex- 
pected of me. I really must go, Gray Mouse. 
{Goes out) 

Little Mouse. I am too little. Mother, 
may I go and play? 

Mother Mouse. Yes, we must all go. 
No one could expect the mother of seven 
children to take on any more tasks. 


20 


QUAINT OLD STORIES 


Father Mouse. I will go with you. It 
would not be right for the father of a family 
to run such a risk. ( The three go.) 

Big Mouse. I have been very much inter- 
ested, Gray Mouse, in this discussion, but I 
have business ; I really must be excused now. 

Gray Mouse. I will go with you. ( The 
two go) 

House Mouse. And I must run home, or 
I shall be late. (Runs off) 

Wise Old Mouse (alone in the barn). Yes, 
that is the question. Who will bell the Cat ? 



THE WOODCUTTER AND THE 
FAIRY 

( Three Parts ) 

A woodcutter is standing by a tree on the 
river bank, looking down into the water. 

Woodcutter. Alas! my ax is gone. I 
thought I was holding it fast, but it slipped 
from my hand and has fallen into the river. 
What shall I do? I have no money to buy 
another, and if I cannot chop wood, I have 
no way to earn a living for myself and my 
poor wife. Alas ! what shall I do ? 

A man in a long cloak walks up behind him. 

Man. Come, come, my friend, you seem 
sad. What is it that you are lamenting about ? 

Woodcutter. As I was cutting this branch, 
my ax slipped and fell into the river. The 
water is so deep that I cannot get it out, and 

without my ax I cannot earn a living. 

21 


22 


QUAINT OLD STORIES 


Man. I think I can help here. ( Pulls a 
wand from under his cloak and waves it over 
the water.) 

Ax, ax, in the river, 

Come, come, come hither. 

An ax comes up out of the water, and the 
man takes it by the handle. 

Man. Here is an ax. Is it yours? 

Woodcutter. No, kind sir. I thank you, 
but that is not my ax. The handle of that 
ax is yellow and looks like gold. Mine had 
a wooden handle. 

Man ( waving his wand). We will try again. 
Ax, ax, in the river, 

Come, come, come hither. 

An ax comes up out of the water, and the 
man takes it by the handle. 

Man. Here is another. Look at this. Is 
it yours? 

Woodcutter. No, kind sir. I thank you, 
but look at the handle of that. I think it 
must be silver, it shines so. Mine was an 
old ax with a common wooden handle. 


WOODCUTTER AND FAIRY 


23 

Man ( waving his wand). Then we must 
try once more. 

Ax, ax, in the river, 

Come, come, come hither. 


An ax comes up out of the water, and the 
man takes it by the handle. 



Woodcutter. Heaven be praised ! There 
is my own ax again. I know, sir, that you 


24 


QUAINT OLD STORIES 


must be a fairy, and I thank you more than 
I can say for helping me. 

Man. You are a worthy and an honest 
man. I am glad to have found you. Take 
now the three axes. One is gold, as you 
thought, and one silver, and here is your own 
working ax again. 

He walks quickly away, leaving the three 
axes in the hands of the astonished wood- 
cutter. While he is standing there, staring 
at them, another woodcutter comes by with 
an ax over his shoulder. 

Newcomer. Hollo, there. Why are you 
not working instead of standing looking at 
your ax ? But ho ! what have you there ? 
Three axes? 

Woodcutter. Aye, look at them ! One is 
gold, one silver, and the third is my own, 
which I lost as I was working here. A kind 
man, who must have been a fairy, came by 
and took pity on me as I was lamenting, and 
before I knew what was happening, he had 
pulled these three out of the river. 


WOODCUTTER AND FAIRY 25 

Newcomer. You are in luck. I think I 
will sit down here awhile and see if he comes 
along again. 

Woodcutter. And I must away home to 
tell my wife of our good fortune. Good day. 

Newcomer. Good day. 

He waits till the first woodcutter is gone. 
Then taking his ax he throws it into the river. 

Newcomer. Alas! alas! my beautiful ax! 
It is gone, and how can I get it back? I am 
ruined. 

The man in the long cloak comes in and 
listens with a smile on his face. 

Man. Well, well, my friend. You are mak- 
ing a great deal of noise here. What is it all 
about ? 

Newcomer (aside). ’T is he. (Loudly) Alas! 
alas ! my beautiful ax has fallen into the river. 

Man. I think I can help you. (Waving his 
wand) 

Ax, ax, in the river, 

Come, come, come hither. 


26 


QUAINT OLD STORIES 


A golden ax comes up out of the water, 
and he picks it up. 

Newcomer ( seizing it). My own beautiful 
ax ! I would know it anywhere. How glad I 
am to have it again ! 

Man (, holding it tightly ). Here, here, my 
friend. Not so fast! This happens to be my 
own ax, not yours at all, as you very well 
know. Because of your greed I will not get 
you even your own ax, which you were so 
willing to throw away. Let this teach you 
that it is the honest man whom fairies and 
men delight to reward and honor. 



THE HEDGEHOG 


" Where are you going so fast away ? 

Where are you going ? ” the children said. 
" To seek my dinner, this summer day, 

To seek my dinner,” the Hedgehog said. 

" You ’ve got long prickles so sharp and fine ! 

Such terrible prickles ! ” the children said. 
" Don’t I tell you I ’m going to dine ? 

Let me be going,” the Hedgehog said. 

" Nay, nay, now stay; don’t hurry away! 

Don ? t run away ! ” the children said. 

" What will you get for your dinner to-day ? ” 
" A little fat snail,” the Hedgehog said. 

" And do you gobble your snails quite raw ? 

Do you not cook them ? ” the children said. 
" Such inquisitive children I never saw ! 

Of course I don’t cook them ! ” the Hedge- 
hog said. 


27 


SEEING THE WORLD 
{Four Parts) 

A little Pig is standing at the door of his 
sty. His mother is behind him. 

Pig. Ho, ho ! the farm boy has left this 
door ajar, and I have pushed it open. I have 
always wanted to see the world, and now is 
my time. I ’m off. 

Mother Pig. No, no, stay here with me. 
You will be safer in the sty. 

Pig. No, I have always wanted to see the 
world, and I am going. It would be of no 
use for you to come. You would be in my 
way, and in your own as well, for I know you 
do not care to see the world. Good-by. 

Mother. Take care ; take care. It may be 
well to go out into the world if you must, but 
it is best to stop at home if you can. 

Pig. Poor old thing ! I ’m off. 

He walks out into the square, walled-in 
farmyard. 


28 


SEEING THE WORLD 


29 


Pig. So this is the world. What a large 
place it is ! Dear me, I must take care or I 
shall be lost. I must keep close to the edge 
of the world. Then I shall not lose my way. 



Two Geese ( standing in his way and put- 
ting out their heads at hint). Quack, quack ! 

Pig. I don't like this. I will go as fast as 
I can. 

Four Hens (by the wall, a little farther on). 
Cluck, cluck, cluck, cluck ! 


30 


QUAINT OLD STORIES 


Pig. What does that mean ? How much 
I shall have to tell when I get home ! (Comes 
to a door) This must be the end of the world. 
(Meets Cow) See those great horns. I will get 
out of her way as fast as I can. I will make 
haste. Why, here I am back at the door of 
my own sty. 

Mother. So here you are back again. 

Pig. Here I am. 

Mother. What have you seen ? 

Pig. Oh, such things ! I have been round 
the world. I find it is square, and has a wall 
all round it, lest pigs should fall off. In 
fact, it is like a big sty. 

Mother. Well, to be sure ! 

Pig. And the end of the world is made 
of wood, and has two high posts, one on each 
side, to mark the place. The first thing that 
I saw in the world was a pair of such queer 
pigs. They had but two legs, and they had 
very long necks. There are but two in the 
world. Think of that ! Then I saw four 
smaller pigs, and they said " Cluck, cluck ! ” 

Mother. What does that mean ? 


SEEING THE WORLD 


31 


Pig. Oh ! it is what they say in the world. 
It is of no use to tell you what it means, for 
you have not been there, you know. Then I 
saw a huge red pig with two horns. There is 
but one pig of this sort in the whole world. 

Mother. Well, to be sure. 

Pig. I should have made friends with her, 
but she did not look my way. And then, as I 
had gone all round the world, I came home. 
Ah ! the world is a fine place. To think that 
you have never seen it, you poor old thing! 
Now the farm boy may shut the door when 
he likes. I know the world. 

Mother. Well, to be sure. 




THE COCK AND THE FOX 


(Two Parts ) 

Cock (high up in a tree). Cock-a-doodle-doo ! 

Fox (coming). Ha, there is a Cock, but too 
high up for me to catch him. How shall I 
bring him down ? Ah ! I know. T rust my wits 
to find a way. (Stands under the tree. ) Good 
day, Cousin Cock, have you not heard of the 
proclamation of universal peace and harmony 
among all kinds of beasts and birds ? We are 
no longer to prey upon and devour one an- 
other, but love and friendship are to be the 
order of the day. Do come down, and we will 
talk over this great news at our leisure. 

32 


THE COCK AND THE FOX 


33 


Cock (to himself \ At his old tricks again ! 
(Aloud) One moment. I am watching. Yes, 
there they are 

Fox. What is it you are looking at so 
earnestly ? 

Cock. I think I see a pack of hounds 
yonder. 

Fox. Oh, then, your humble servant; I 
must be gone. 

Cock. Nay, Cousin, pray do not go. I am 
just coming down. You are surely not afraid 
of dogs in these peaceable times. 

Fox. Oh, no ; but ten to one they have not 
heard of the proclamation yet. 



THE DISCONTENTED 
BLACKSMITH 


There lived once in India a blacksmith 
who was never happy. He complained about 
this thing and complained about that, till his 
wife and his friends and his neighbors were 
tired out with him, and the gods were tired 
out with him, too. 

One summer day, when he went to work 
in his shop, he began to complain as usual. 

" It is too warm a day to work, and besides 
I am not well. I wish I could be a stone on 
the mountain. There it must be cool, for the 
wind blows, and the trees give shade.” 

And a voice answered him, " Go thou and 
be a stone.” 

Before he had time to think, there he was, 
a stone high up on the mountain side. 

" This is fine,” said he. " It is cool and 
there is a wind, just as I thought.” 

It happened that a stonecutter came by, 
and when he saw the one that had been the 


34 


THE DISCONTENTED BLACKSMITH 35 

blacksmith, he knew it was what he sought, 
and he began to cut it. 

" This hurts ! ” the stone cried out. " I no 
longer want to be a stone. I want to be a 
stonecutter. That would be pleasant.” 

A voice answered him, " Be a stonecutter,” 
and he was a stonecutter. But as he went 
seeking good stone to cut, he grew tired, and 
his feet were sore. He whimpered : " I no 
longer want to be a stonecutter. Oh, if I 
were only a prince, and could sit on the 
grass and have a golden umbrella held over 
me, how happy I should be ! ” 

A voice was heard, " Be a prince,” and he 
was a prince. Servants stood about him as 
he lay on a rich rug on the grass in his 
palace garden, and a boy held a golden um- 
brella over his head, but in spite of the water 
that his servants had poured on the grass, 
the rays of the sun scorched it, and the heat 
of the sun beat through the umbrella and 
wearied him. A soft white cloud floated over 
his head, and he murmured to himself, " I wish 
I were that cloud.” 


36 QUAINT OLD STORIES 

" Be that cloud,” said a voice, and a cloud 
he was, and lay between the sun and the 
earth. For a few moments he was well 
pleased to float along, looking down on the 
earth. To be sure, he was not a very good 
cloud, for he got black and heavy and poured 
down rain in the places where it was wet 
enough, and floated idly over the places 
where it was dry and parched. So the sun 
sent his beams upon him, and he began to 
break up and be absorbed by the heat. Then 
he was very angry. 

"It is the sun that makes me all this 
trouble,” he said aloud. " Why not be the 
sun?” 

" Be the sun,” said the voice, and he was 
the sun, and behold ! he did not like that at 
all, even for one little minute, for the sun was 
very hot and very high up above the earth, 
and he was very uncomfortable. 

" Oh, dear ! oh, dear ! ” said the blacksmith, 
" I am hotter than I was when I was a smith. 
I wish I could be a smith again. That is, 
after all, the best life.” 


THE DISCONTENTED BLACKSMITH 37 

" Your wish is heard,” said the voice. " Be 
a smith, and remain a smith, and remember 
the lesson you have learned.” 

And the blacksmith found himself back in 
his own smithy, hammering away, and for the 
first time in many, many years he did not 
complain, but said, "It is good to be a man 
and a blacksmith.” 



HOW CLAUS WON THE 
PRINCESS 

I 

( Four Parts ) 

The king is sitting in his morning room. 
A servant enters, escorting a young man. 

Servant. Here is another young man, Sir 
King, who has come in answer to your procla- 
mation. His name is Claus. 

King. I did not know there were so many 
young men in my kingdom. But he may try. 
He can but fail, as the others have done. How 
many have there been ? 

Servant. Nine hundred and ninety-nine, 
Sir King. 

King. So many, and there may be as 
many more. 

Claus. There will be no more, Sir King, 
for I am not going to fail. 

King. Ah, you do not know the difficulties 
before you. But there ! let me explain fully 
38 


HOW CLAUS WON THE PRINCESS 39 

the conditions, and then you will see if you 
wish to try. Since she was a child we have 
never been able to find out whether my 
daughter, the princess, knows the difference 
between truth and falsehood. When she was 
little, she would believe anything any one 
told her, no matter how unreasonable, and 
she would tell impossible stories as if she 
believed every word of them. Now that she 
is a woman, this is a very serious matter. In 
every other way she seems bright enough, 
but how can she get along in the world if 
she neither tells the truth nor has any idea 
whether she is being told the truth? 

Claus. So what you want is to find out 
whether she knows the difference between 
truth and falsehood. 

King. Just that. I have offered to give 
her hand and half my kingdom besides to 
the man who can prove that she knows 
the difference. 

Claus. And all the others have failed. 

King. They have told her the most out- 
rageous and improbable tales, and to every 


40 QUAINT OLD STORIES 

one she has said, " Y es, is that so ? ” and 
never showed a bit of doubt or surprise. In 
return she has sometimes told them even 
more astonishing tales, with every appear- 
ance of believing them. 

Claus. I see. Now if I can make the 
princess say, " That is not true,” I will have 
won her hand and half the kingdom. 

King. And my thanks beside. (To the 
servant ) Take him to the princess, and may 
good luck attend you. 

Claus. I thank you, Sir King. 

II 

Claus comes upon the princess in the farm- 
yard, where he has been sent to seek her. 

Claus. Good day, and thank you for 
nothing. 

Princess. Good day, and the same to you. 

Claus. What an immense cabbage you 
have here. 

Princess. I suppose it might be smaller. 

Claus. After all, it is nothing to my 
father’s cabbage. Once we were building 


HOW CLAUS WON THE PRINCESS 41 

a new barn, and sixteen carpenters were 
working on it. A shower came up, and all 
sixteen men took shelter under one of the 
leaves. 

Princess. That cabbage must have been 
large indeed. I don’t see where you could 
keep it, for you could not let it grow forever, 
and of course you have n’t as large a barn as 
we have here. 

Claus. You do have a good-sized barn, but 
ours is larger. 

Princess. Are you sure? My father is 
king, you know, so his barn must be larger. 
It is so big that when two boys stand, one at 
each end, and blow their horns, they cannot 
hear each other. 

Claus. Oh, indeed ! ours is so immense 
that if a young calf starts to walk from one 
end of it to the other, he is a big bull by the 
time he gets out. 

Princess. I dare say. But you have n’t so 
much milk as we, I ’ll be bound, for we milk 
our cows into great tubs and carry the tubs 
indoors and make great, great cheeses. 


42 


QUAINT OLD STORIES 


Claus. Oh, you do, do you ? We milk ours 
into great casks, and put them in carts to 
carry them into the dairy, and make cheeses 
as big as houses. Then we load them into 
great drays. My father looks after the load- 
ing, and I drive to town with them. The 
other day we were a little careless, for we 
piled one up on another till our load be- 
came so high that before I thought about 
it I was standing at the moon. While I 
looked around, the load tipped and upset, 
and there I was holding on to the moon 
with both hands. 

Princess. And what did you do then ? 

Claus. Oh, I found some cobwebs and 
lowered myself down to earth. But it took 
so long to come that when I got back, it 
was Sunday. 

Princess. It would take some time. 

Claus. Yes, and I landed right in the 
middle of church. They were just taking up 
a collection for the poor. Your father was 
there. His pockets were filled with silver 
and gold, but he was so mean that, when his 


HOW CLAUS WON THE PRINCESS 43 

turn came, he gave only two copper pennies 
to the poor, and — 

Princess (angrily). That is not true, and 
you know it. My father is the most generous 
man alive. 

Claus. Quite likely, and we ’ll soon have 
a chance to prove it, for I have made you 
say what you never said before, that some- 
thing was not true, and we will go right in 
to your father and tell him about it, and 
he ’ll give me you for my wife, and half his 
kingdom besides. Come. 




AT THE OWL’S SCHOOL 


( Seven Parts) 

All the beasts and birds and flowers are 
sitting in school before an owl by the name 
of Old Wisdom, who is giving an examination. 

Old Wisdom. The next question is, Why 
does the moon shine in the sky? 

Nightingale.. That I may sing all night 
in her pleasant light to my bride, the rose. 

Lilies. That we may open our petals and 
enjoy her loving and refreshing beams. 

44 


AT THE OWL’S SCHOOL 45 

Rabbit. That there may be enough dew 
in the morning for me to lap. 

Dog. That I may find any thieves that 
may be prowling round my master’s house. 

Glowworm. That she may throw me into 
the shade, for she is jealous of my light. 

Fox. That I may see my way to the 
poultry yard ! 

Old Wisdom. Enough! But one moon 
shines in the sky, yet see how each of you 
uses it to serve his own purpose, and thinks 
it shines only for him. Self rules us all. 



THE LAMBIKIN 


Once upon a time there was a wee, wee 
Lambikin, who frolicked about on his little 
tottery legs and enjoyed himself amazingly. 

Now one day he set off to visit his Granny, 
and was jumping with joy to think of all the 
good things he should get from her, when 
whom should he meet but a Jackal, who 
looked at the tender young morsel and said, 
" Lambikin, Lambikin, I ’ll eat you ! ” 

But Lambikin only gave a little frisk, 
and said : 

" To Granny’s house I go, 

Where I shall fatter grow, 

Then you can eat me so.” 

The Jackal thought this reasonable and 
let Lambikin pass. 

By and by he met a Vulture, and the Vul- 
ture, looking hungrily at the tender morsel 
before him, said, " Lambikin, Lambikin, I ’ll 
eat you ! ” 


46 


THE LAMBIKIN 


47 


But Lambikin only gave a little frisk 
and said : 

" To Granny’s house I go, 

Where I shall fatter grow, 

Then you can eat me so.” 



The Vulture thought this reasonable and 
let Lambikin pass. 

And by and by he met a Tiger, and then 
a Wolf, and a Dog, and an Eagle, and all 
these, when they saw the tender little morsel, 
said, " Lambikin, Lambikin, I ’ll eat you ! ” 
But to all of them Lambikin replied, with 
a little frisk: 


48 QUAINT OLD STORIES 

" To Granny’s house I go, 

Where I shall fatter grow, 

Then you can eat me so.” 

At last he reached his Granny’s house, 
and said, all in a great hurry, " Granny, dear, 
I ’ve promised to get very fat ; so, as people 
ought to keep their promises, please put me 
into the corn bin at once.” 

So his Granny said he was a good boy, 
and put him into the corn bin, and there the 
greedy little Lambikin stayed for seven days, 
and ate, and ate, and ate, until he could 
scarcely waddle, and his Granny said he was 
fat enough for anything, and must go home. 
But cunning little Lambikin said that would 
never do, for some animal would be sure to 
eat him on the way back, he was so plump 
and tender. 

" I ’ll tell you what you must do,” said 
Master Lambikin; "you must make a little 
drum, a drumikin, out of a firkin and a 
piece of skin, and then I can sit inside 
and trundle along nicely, for I ’m tight as a 
drum myself.” 


THE LAMBIKIN 


49 


So his Granny made him a nice little 
drumikin out of a firkin and a piece of skin, 
with soft wool inside, and Lambikin curled 
himself up snug and warm in the middle and 
trundled gayly away. Soon he met the Eagle, 
who called out : 

" Drumikin ! Drumikin ! 

Have you seen Lambikin ? ” 

And Master Lambikin, curled up in his 
soft, warm nest, replied : 

" Lost on the road, 

And so are you, 

T um-pa, tum-too ! ” 

" How very annoying,” sighed the Eagle, 
thinking regretfully of the tender morsel he 
had let slip. 

Meanwhile Lambikin trundled gayly along, 
laughing to himself, and singing: 

"Tum-pa, tum-too, 

Tum-pa, tum-too ! ” 

Every animal and bird he met asked him 
the same question : 

M Drumikin ! Drumikin ! 

Have you seen Lambikin ? ” 


50 


QUAINT OLD STORIES 


To each saucy little Lambikin replied: 

" Lost on the road, 

And so are you, 

T um-pa, tum-too ! ” 

Then they all sighed to think of the tender 
little morsel they had let slip. And Lambikin 
trundled gayly along, thinking what a clever 
little fellow he was. 

At last the Jackal came limping along — 
for all his sorry looks as sharp as a needle 
— and he too called out : 

" Drumikin ! Drumikin ! 

Have you seen Lambikin ? ” 

And Lambikin, curled up in his snug little 
nest, replied gayly : 

" Lost on the road, 

And so are you, 

Tum-pa — ” 

But he never got any farther, for the Jackal 
recognized his voice at once, and cried : " Hollo ! 
you Ve turned yourself inside out, have you ? 
J ust you come out of that ! ” 

Whereupon he tore open Drumikin and 
gobbled up Lambikin. 



THE POOR MAN AND THE 
RICH MAN 

I 


( Three Parts ) 

It is noonday. A poor man has tied his horse 
to a tree, and is sitting down by the roadside, 
eating his dinner. A rich man comes along 
and starts to tie his horse to the same tree. 

Poor Man. Do not fasten your horse to 
that tree. My horse is very savage. He will 
kill yours. Fasten him to another tree. 

Rich Man. I shall tie my horse where I wish. 

Poor Man. You had better fasten him to 
another tree. 

Rich Man. I shall tie my horse to the tree 
which I chose in the first place. 

5 1 


52 


QUAINT OLD STORIES 

II 

The two men are in court before a judge. 

Rich Man. O wise judge ! This man’s 
savage horse has killed my horse — my beau- 
tiful, kind, gentle horse ! Make him pay for 
it or send him to prison, I beg of you. 

Judge. How did it happen? 

Rich Man. I tied my horse to a tree by 
the roadside. This man’s savage horse at- 
tacked him and killed him. 

Judge. What was this man doing, and 
where was his horse ? 

Rich Man. He was eating his dinner by 
the roadside, and his horse was tied to the 
same tree as my horse. 

J udge (to the poor man). Did your horse 
kill this man’s horse? 

(Silence) 

I asked you if your horse killed this man’s 
horse. (Silence) 

Are you deaf ? 

(The poor man shakes his headi) 

Then you must defend yourself and tell 
your story. Can’t you talk? 


THE POOR MAN AND THE RICH MAN 53 
( Silence ) 

J udge (to the rich man). What can I do ? This 
poor man is dumb. He cannot speak a word. 

Rich Man. Sir, he can talk as well as you 
or I. He spoke to me on the road. 

Judge. Are you sure? What did he say ? 

Rich Man. Indeed I am sure. He said 
quite plainly : " Do not fasten your horse to 
that tree. My horse is very savage. He will 
kill yours. Fasten him to another tree.” He 
can talk well enough if he chooses. 

Judge. Ah, now I see. If he warned you, 
he need not pay for your horse. You only 
are to blame. You should have heeded his 
warning. (To the poor mail) Tell me, why did 
you not answer my questions ? 

Poor Man. Can you not see, O wise 
judge? If I had told you that I warned 
him not to tie his horse near mine, he would 
have denied it. Then you would not have 
, known which of us was telling the truth. I 
knew, O wise one, that if I let him tell the 
story alone, you would soon learn the truth. 


ONE MINUTE AT A TIME 

[Eight Parts ) 



The scene is a farmer’s kitch- 
en. A tall clock stands in the 
corner. By the early morning 
light it is seen that the hands 
point to five o’clock, but they 
do not move. There is no sound 
of ticking ; the weights hang mo- 
tionless ; the clock has stopped. 
All at once the silence is broken. 

Clock. What is the trouble ? Why am I 
not going? Wheels, Face, Hands, Weights, 
why are you not working? What has hap- 
pened to you ? 


54 


ONE MINUTE AT A TIME 


55 


Face. It is not my fault. I have tried my 
best to change my expression, but I am all 
stiff. I cannot move. 

Hands. Nor is it our fault. We were going 
along just as usual, and all of a sudden we 
were helpless. We could not move. 

Clock. Whose fault is it, then? It must 
be somebody’s. I ’ve been going fifty years 
and never stopped. The whole family have 
come to depend on me. I heard the farmer 
say yesterday that he did not know what they 
would do if anything happened to me. And 
here I am stopped. 

Face. Perhaps it is the wheels. I can’t 
hear them turning behind me. 

Wheels (in a little high voice). Indeed it 
is not. We were turning as fast and regularly 
as ever, when all of a sudden we could not 
move. What can be the matter? 

Clock. Maybe it is those heavy weights 
that are making the trouble. 

Weights (in a low , deep voice). Not a bit 
of it. We are just as uncomfortable as we 
can be, hung here with nothing to do. 


QUAINT OLD STORIES 


50 

Clock. Look here ! This won’t do. Some- 
body is at the bottom of this, and if they 
don’t confess, I ’ll strike. I ’ll strike, and I ’ll 
keep on striking till the farmer comes to look 
into this, and how will you like that ? 

Pendulum {faintly). Tick, tick. It is I 
who have stopped you all. I ’m tired of 
ticking, and I just thought I ’d stop. 

Face. You did, did you? Lazy thing! 

Pendulum (in a louder voice). As to that, 
it is all very easy for you, Mistress Face, who 
have always, as everybody knows, set your- 
self up above me, — it is all very easy for you, 
I say, to accuse other people of laziness, 
you who have nothing to do all your life 
but to stare people in the face and amuse 
yourself with watching all that goes on in 
the kitchen. Think how you would like to 
be shut up for life in this dark closet, and 
wag backward and forward year after year, 
as I do. How many years did you say, 
Father Clock? 

Clock. Fifty, but that ’s not the question 


now. 


ONE MINUTE AT A TIME 


57 

Pendulum (interrupting). Fifty! It makes 
me tired only to think about it. 

Face. As for being shut up, have n’t you 
a window in your house on purpose for you 
to look through ? 

Pendulum. Yes, but much good it does 
me. I dare not stop even for an instant to 
look out. I just swing back and forth behind 
it, and catch glimpses of what is going on. 
But I can never really see anything through. 
Still, it was not that which made me stop. I 
was just thoroughly tired. I was calculating 
this morning, as I swung back and forth in 
the dark, how many times I should have to 
tick in the course of only the next twenty- 
four hours. Can any of you above there tell 
me the exact number? 

Face. My minute hand is good at figures. 
Let him answer. 

Minute Hand (in a shrill ’ piping voice). 
Just eighty-six thousand four hundred times. 

Pendulum. Exactly what I made it my- 
self. Now I ask you all if the thought of 
that would not tire any one. When I began 


58 


QUAINT OLD STORIES 


to multiply the strokes of that one day by the 
number of months and years, I was utterly 
discouraged. So I said to myself, " I ’ll stop ! ” 

Wheels. It is true. How many times we 
do have to go round ! 

Weights. We weights must go up and 
down a great many times. 

Face. Dear Mr. Pendulum, I am really 
surprised that so industrious a person as you 
should have been overcome by such an idea. 
It is true, you have done a great deal of work 
in your time. So have we all, and are likely 
to do. But though this may tire us to think 
of, \ I wonder if it will tire us to do . In order 
to find out, would you do me the favor, Mr. 
Pendulum, of swinging a half dozen strokes, 
as an experiment ? 

Pendulum. Certainly, Mistress Face. Tick, 
tick, tick, tick, tick, tick. 

Face. Thank you. Did that tire you 
greatly ? 

Pendulum. Not in the least. It is not of 
six strokes I complain, nor of sixty, but of 
millions. 


One minute at a time 


59 


Face. Very good, but did it ever occur 
to you that, though you could think , in an 
instant, of a million strokes, you could never 
do but one at a time ? 

Pendulum. I confess it never did. 

Face. I thought not. My friend, you will 
never have to do but one stroke at a time, 
and you will always have full time to do it in. 

Wheels. That’s so. 

Clock. All this is interesting, no doubt, but 
if you children are ready to stop this foolish 
thinking and do your one minute at a time, 
I should say you had better go to work again. 
If we don’t return to our duty, the people will 
lie in bed till noon. Are you ready ? 

Weights (in a low , deep voice). Ready. 

Wheels (in a little high voice). We ’ll turn. 

Hands. We ’ll move* 

Face. I ’ll tell time. 

Pendulum. Come to think of it, I ’ll swing. 

Clock. Come not to think of it, I should 
say ! Remember now, no more of this think- 
ing ahead! One minute at a time, and all 
together. Ready ! Go ! 


6o 


QUAINT OLD STORIES 


Pendulum. Tick, tick, tick, tick, tick — 
Clock. Thank goodness! Well, they’re 
just in time, for here comes the farmer. 



Farmer ( coming in and glancing at the 
clock). Why, what’s all this? Am I early? 
[Pulls out his watch) Dear me, my watch 
has gained half an hour in the night. 


WHAT THE GOODMAN DOES IS 
ALWAYS RIGHT 

(Four Parts ) 

The scene is the little, low room of a 
peasant’s cottage. It is neat and clean but 
very poor. 


I 

Morning 

Goodman. Yes, my dear, I really think we 
had better sell the horse. 

Wife. That is as you say. Still, it does n’t 
cost much to keep him. 

Goodman. No ; that is true. He gets most 
of his living from the grass by the highroad. 
Still, think how much money I could get 
for him. 

Wife. But think how much you use him. 
You ride him to town and bring home all the 

market stuff on his back. 

61 


62 


QUAINT OLD STORIES 


Goodman. Aye, ’t is true; but remember 
how often the neighbors borrow him. 

Wife. Yes, but think how often they help 
. you about the farm in return for it. When I 
was ill last winter, don’t you know how Good- 
wife Brown came to care for the house, and 
said she' was glad enough to make some 
return for the number of times we had lent 
her our horse ? 

Goodman. Yes, but I think it will be best 
to exchange the horse for money or for some- 
thing useful. 

Wife. Then the horse shall be exchanged. 

Goodman. But what shall I exchange it for ? 

Wife. You will know best, old man. It 
is fair day to-day, so ride into town and get 
rid of the horse for money, or make a good 
exchange. Whichever you do will be right 
to me, so make ready now and ride off to 
the fair. 

Goodman. Very well, I will, for you can 
count on this about me : I know what I ’m 
about. 


WHAT THE GOODMAN DOES IS RIGHT 63 
II 

Evening 

Wife. Where can the goodman be? He 
is always back from the market before dark. 
But there, he would have to walk home, 
would n’t he ? Ah, me ! we shall miss our 
horse. But there ! he knows best, and here 
he is now and two strangers behind him. 

Goodman ( coming in with a sack). Good 
evening, wife. 

The two strangers stand in the doorway. 
The wife does not see them. 

Wife. Good evening, goodman, and wel- 
come home again. 

Goodman. I ’ve made the exchange. 

Wife. Yes, you understand what you are 
about. 

Goodman. I ’ll tell you all about it. As I 
was riding to town I met a man driving a 
beautiful cow. I said to myself, " That cow 
would give good milk, I am sure. A horse 
may be of more value than a cow, but I don’t 


6 4 


QUAINT OLD STORIES 


care for that.” So I spoke to the man and 
exchanged the horse for the cow. 

Wife. Heaven be thanked! What good 
milk we shall have now, and plenty of butter 
and cheese for the table ! That was a capital 
exchange. 

Goodman. Yes, but after that I met a man 
driving a sheep, and I said to myself, " A 
sheep could find plenty of grass in our yard, 
and would be easier to make room for in 
winter, and is besides more profitable than a 
cow.” So I exchanged the cow for a sheep. 

Wife. Better still! You always think of 
everything. We have just pasture enough for 
a sheep. Ewe’s milk and cheese, and woolen 
jackets and stockings ! The cow cannot give 
those, and her hairs would only come off. 
How you think of everything! 

Goodman. But I changed that too, I tell 
you. I met a fellow carrying a great goose 
under his arm. Said I to myself, " That has 
plenty of feathers and plenty of fat, and would 
look well tied to a string and paddling in the 
water at our place. That,” said I, " would be 


WHAT THE GOODMAN DOES IS RIGHT 65 

something for my old woman.” So I gave 
my sheep for his goose and thanked him into 
the bargain. 

Wife. You dear old man, you are always 
thinking of something to give me pleasure. 
We can let the goose walk about with a 
string to her leg, and when she grows fatter, 
we ’ll roast her, and this year we shall really 
have roast goose to eat. 

Goodman. But I gave away the goose for 
a fowl. 

Wife. A fowl ! That was an exchange ! 

Goodman. Yes, the gatekeeper had a fowl, 
and directly I saw it, I thought to myself, 
" On my word, I would like to have that 
fowl. It’s the finest I ever saw in my life. 
Besides, a fowl can always find a grain or 
two and keep itself.” 

Wife. Yes, indeed! The fowl will lay 
eggs and hatch them, and we shall have 
chickens; we shall have a whole poultry 
yard! Oh! that’s just what I was wish- 
ing for. 

Goodman. Yes, but I exchanged the fowl. 


66 QUAINT OLD STORIES 

Wife. You did, and what for? 

Goodman. Yes, there’s quite a story to 
that. I was tired after that, and I thought 
I ’d stop in at the inn. 

Wife. Quite right. You had done a great 
deal of business. 

Goodman. At the door I met the inn- 
keeper carrying a sack. I asked him what 
he had in that sack, and he told me rotten 
apples, a whole sackful of them, to feed the 
pigs with. I told him that would be a terrible 
waste, and said I to him, " I should like to 
take them home to my old woman, for last 
year, when our old apple tree bore only one 
apple, she kept it in the cupboard till it 
was withered and rotten, and kept saying, 
'Anyway, it is always property.’ ” 

Wife. You told him I said that? 

Goodman. Indeed I did, and I said how 
you would open your eyes to see a whole 
sackful of property. And so we exchanged, 
and here is the bag of rotten apples. 

Wife ( taking it eagerly ). My dear, good 
husband ! Now I will tell you something. 





68 QUAINT OLD STORIES 

You had hardly left this morning before I 
began to think that I must get you some- 
thing very nice for dinner. As soon as I set 
about it, I wanted some herbs to cook with. 
So I went to the schoolmaster’s (they have 
plenty of herbs in their garden, you know); 
but the schoolmistress is a mean woman, 
though she smiles so sweetly. I asked her 
to lend me a handful of herbs. " Lend ! ” she 
exclaimed, " I have nothing to lend from our 
garden; I could not even lend you one 
rotten apple, my dear woman.” But now I 
can lend her ten, or even a whole sackful. 
It makes me laugh to think of it ! Dear 
goodman, what you do is always right ! 

Goodman. There, I said so. ( Turning to 
the door where the two men have entered ) 
Come along in. Didn’t I tell you so? 

First Stranger. Well done, goodman. 

Wife. Why, what is all this? Your par- 
don, sirs. Did you knock? 

Second Stranger. No, goodwife, we did 
not, for your husband knew we were here. 
We came home with him from the inn, and 


WHAT THE GOODMAN DOES IS RIGHT 69 

we must ask your pardon for spying on you. 
But first we will do our business with your 
goodman. 

Wife. Goodman, what does all this mean ? 

Goodman. I ’ll tell you, wife. These gentle- 
men saw me exchange my fowl for the bag of 
apples, and as I sat in the inn, they asked me 
about it, and I told them the whole story of 
my day, just as I have told it now to you. 
Did n’t I, sirs ? 

First Stranger. You did, indeed. 

Second Stranger. The very same story. 

Goodman. And this gentleman ( pointing 
to the first stranger) said to me, " I ’ll warrant 
your old woman will give it to you when you 
get home.” And I said to him, " Give what ?” 
And he said to me, " Give you a good sound 
slap, and you ’ll be lucky to get off so easy.” 
But I said, " No, she will say, 'What the 
goodman does is always right.’ ” 

First Stranger {bowing). And you did, 
madam. So my friend here and I owe you a 
hundred pounds of gold, which was what we 
wagered that your husband would be wrong 


70 


QUAINT OLD STORIES 


and we right. We will pour it out on the 
table if you will allow us, and we are not 
sorry to do it, for the sake of having seen 
such a wife as you. Good day, and good luck 
to you both. 

The two strangers pour out the gold on 
the table, bow to the couple, and withdraw. 

Goodman. Look at that pile, will you ? 
This morning we. had a horse. Now we 
have a hundred pounds of gold. Did n’t I 
know what I was about? 

Wife. Goodman, what you do is always 
right. 



THE MAN’S BOOT 
(Six Parts ) 

A man’s boot has been found in the middle 
of the forest, and all the animals have come 
together to talk over what it can be. 

Bear. Well, there is not much doubt as to 
what it is, I say. 

Wolf. Oh, of course not. 

Goat. Certainly not. 

Bear. Of course it is the rind of some kind 
of fruit of a tree. The fruit of the cork tree, 
I should say. Look at this hard part. (Points 
to the sole) This is the cork, it is plain to see. 

All the Birds. Oh, just hear him ! 

All the Beasts. Oh, just hear him ! 

Wolf. It is not that at all. Of course it is 
some kind of nest. Look, here is the hole 
for the bird to go in, and here is the deep 
part for the eggs and young ones to be safe. 
No doubt at all ; of course not. 

Birds. Oh, oh, just hear him ! 

Bear. Just hear what he says ! 

71 



72 













THE MAN’S BOOT 


73 

Goat. It is not that at all. I should think 
not. It is quite plain to me. Look at this 
long root. ( Shows the lace hanging at the 
side of the boot) It is the root of a plant. 

Birds. Oh, just hear him ! 

Beasts. Oh, just hear him ! 

Wolf. A root! How can you say so? 

Bear. One thing is sure: we can all see 
it is not that. 

Owl. If I might speak, I think I can tell 
you what it is. I have been in a land where 
there are more of such things than you could 
count. It is a man’s boot. 

Bear. What is a man ? 

Goat. And what is a boot? 

Owl. A man ? A man is a thing with two 
legs, that can walk, and eat, and talk, like us ; 
but he can do much more than we can. 

Beasts. Pooh ! pooh ! 

Birds. Pooh ! pooh ! 

Beasts. That cannot be true ! How can a 
thing with two legs do more than we, who 
have four? It is false, of course. 

Birds. Of course it is, if they have no wings. 


74 


QUAINT OLD STORIES 


Owl. They have no wings, and yet it is 
true and they make things like this, and call 
them boots and put them on their feet. 

Beasts. Oh ! oh ! how can you say so ? 

Birds. For shame ! fie on you ! 

Bear. A fine tale, indeed ! 

Wolf. Can do more than we can ! 

Goat. Wear things on their feet! 

Beasts. Not true! 

Birds. Not true ! 

Wolf. On the face of it your tale is not 
true. We know that such things are not 
worn on feet. 

Goat. How could they be worn on feet? 

Bear. They could not. It is false. 

Wolf. What you say cannot be true. You 
are not fit to live with us. You have said 
what we know is false. 

Beasts. You must leave the wood. 

Birds. Leave the wood. 

They chase the owl out of the wood. 

Owl ( looking back as he goes). It is true, 
for all that. 


PEASIE AND BEANSIE 


Once upon a time there were two sisters 
who lived together, but while the elder, 
Beansie by name, was a hard, quarrelsome 
creature, apt to disagree with everybody, 
Peasie, the younger, was soft and most 
agreeable. 

Now one day Peasie, who was forever try- 
ing to please somebody, said to her sister, 
" Beansie, my dear, don’t you think we ought 
to pay a visit to our poor old father? He 
must be dull now. It is harvest time, and he 
is left alone in the house.” 

M I don’t care if he is ! ” replied Beansie. 
" Go yourself ! I ’m not going to walk about 
in the heat to please any old man.” 

So kind Peasie set off alone, and on the 
way she met a Plum Tree. 

" O Peasie!” cried the Plum Tree, "stop 
a bit, there’s a good soul, and tidy up my 
thorns a little; they are scattered about so 
that I feel quite uncomfortable.” 

75 


76 QUAINT OLD STORIES 

" So they are, I declare ! ” returned Peasie, 
and forthwith set to work with such a will 
that before long the Tree was as neat as a 
new pin. 

A little farther on she met a Fire, and the 
Fire cried out, " O sweet Peasie ! tidy up 
my hearth a bit, for I am half choked in 
the ashes. ” 

" So you are, I declare ! ” returned good- 
natured Peasie, setting herself to clear the 
ashes away, until the Fire crackled and 
flamed with pleasure. 

Farther on she met a Fig Tree, and the 
Fig Tree called out, "O kind Peasie! bind 
up this broken branch for me, or it will die, 
and I shall lose it.” 

" Poor thing ! poor thing ! ” cried soft- 
hearted Peasie, and, tearing a bandage 
from her veil, she carefully bound up the 
wounded limb. 

After a while she met a Stream, and the 
Stream cried out, " Pretty Peasie ! clear away 
the sand and dead leaves from my mouth, for 
I cannot run when I am stifling.” 


PEASIE AND BEANSIE 


77 


" No more you can,” quoth obliging Peasie, 
and in a few moments she had made the 
channel so clear and clean that the water 
flowed on swiftly. 

At last she arrived, rather tired, at her old 
father’s house. His delight at seeing her was 
so great that she forgot her weariness. He 
would scarcely let her away in the evening, 
and insisted on giving her a spinning wheel, 
a buffalo, some brass pots, a bed, and all 
sorts of things, just as if she had been a 
bride going to her husband. These she 
put on the buffalo’s back, and set off home- 
wards. 

Now, as she passed the stream, she saw a 
web of fine cloth floating down. 

"Take it, Peasie, take it!” tinkled the 
Stream ; " I have carried it far as a reward 
for your kindness.” 

So she gathered up the cloth, laid it on the 
buffalo, and went on her way. 

By and by she passed the Fig Tree, and 
lo ! on the branch that she had tied up hung 
a string of pearls. 


78 QUAINT OLD STORIES 

"Take it, Peasie, take it! ” rustled the Fig 
Tree; " I caught it from a prince’s turban as 
a reward for your kindness.” 

Then she took the pearls, fastened them 
round her pretty, slender throat, and went 
on her way rejoicing. 

Farther on she came to the Fire, burning 
brightly, and on it was a griddle with a nice 
hot sweet cake. 

"Take it, Peasie, take it!” crackled the 
Fire ; " I have cooked it to a turn as a 
reward for your kindness.” 

So grateful Peasie took the nice hot cake, 
and dividing it into two pieces, put one aside 
for her sister and ate the other while she 
went on her way. 

Now, when she reached the Plum Tree, 
the topmost branches were bending down, 
covered with ripe, yellow fruit. 

" Take some, Peasie, take some ! ” groaned 
the laden Tree; "I have ripened these as a 
reward for your kindness.” 

So she gathered her veil full, and eating 
some, set the rest aside for her sister. 


PEASIE AND BEANSIE 


79 


When she arrived at home, instead of being 
pleased at her little sister’s good fortune and 
thoughtfulness, disagreeable Beansie nearly 
cried with spite and envy, and was so cross 



that poor little sweet Peasie became quite 
remorseful over her own luck, and suggested 
that her sister might be equally fortunate if 
she also went to visit her father. 


8o 


QUAINT OLD STORIES 


So next morning greedy Beansie set off 
to see what she could get from the old man. 
But when she came to the Plum Tree, and it 
cried out, " O Beansie ! stop a bit and tidy 
up my thorns a little, there ’s a good soul,” 
the disobliging Beansie tossed her head and 
replied, " A likely story. Why, I could travel 
three miles in the time it would take to settle 
up your stupid old thorns. Do it yourself ! ” 
And when she met the Fig Tree, and it 
asked her to tie up its broken branch, she 
only laughed, saying, " It doesn’t hurt me , 
and I should have walked three miles in the 
time it would take to set it right; so ask 
somebody else.” 

Then when the Fire said to her, " O 
sweet Beansie ! tidy up my hearth a bit, for 
I am half choked by my ashes,” the unkind 
girl replied : " The more fool you for having 
ashes! You don’t suppose I am going to 
dawdle about, helping people who won’t help 
themselves, do you ? Not a bit of it ! ” 

So, when she met the Stream, and it asked 
her to clear away the sand and the dead 


PEASIE AND BEANS IE 


leaves which choked it, she replied, " Do you 
imagine that I am going to stop my walk 
that you may run ? No, no ! every one for 
himself.” 

At last she reached her father’s house, full 
of determination not to go away without a 
heavy load for at least two buffaloes, when, 
just as she was entering the courtyard, her 
brother and his wife fell upon her and 
slapped her most unmercifully, crying, " So 
this is your game, is it? Yesterday comes 
Peasie, while we were hard at work, and 
wheedles her doting old father out of his 
best buffalo, and goodness knows what else 
besides, and to-day you come to rob us. Out 
of the house, you baggage ! ” 

With that they drove her away, hot, tired, 
bruised, and hungry. 

" Never mind,” said she, to console herself, 
" I shall get the web of cloth yet.” 

Sure enough, when she came to the 
Stream, there was a web, three times as 
fine as Peasie’s, floating in the middle of the 
Stream, and greedy Beansie went straight 


82 


QUAINT OLD STORIES 


for it. But alas ! the water was so deep that 
she was very nearly drowned, while the 
beautiful cloth floated past her very fingers. 
So all she got for her pains was a wetting. 

" Never mind,” thought she ; " I ’ll have the 
string of pearls.” 

Yes, there it hung on the broken branch, 
but when Beansie jumped to catch it, branch 
and all fell right on her head, so that she was 
stunned. When she came to herself, some 
other passer-by had walked off with the 
pearls, and she had only a bump on her 
head as big as an egg. 

All these misfortunes had quite wearied 
her out ; she was faint with hunger, and 
hurried on to the Fire, hoping for a nice hot 
sweet cake. 

Yes, there it was, smelling most delicious, 
and Beansie snatched at it so hastily that 
she burned her fingers horribly, and the 
cake rolled away. Before she had stopped 
blowing her fingers and hopping about in 
pain, a crow had carried off the cake, and 
she was left lamenting. 


PEASIE AND BEANSIE 


83 

" At any rate, I ’ll have the plums ! ” cried 
miserable Beansie, setting off at a run, her 
mouth watering at the sight of the yellow 
fruit on the topmost branches of the Plum 
Tree. First she took hold of a lower branch 
with her left hand and reached for the fruit 
with the right. Then, when her left hand 
was all scratched and torn by the thorns, she 
held on with her right and tried to get the 
fruit with the left, but all to no avail. And 
when face and hands were all bleeding and 
full of prickles, she gave up the useless at- 
tempt and went home, — bruised, beaten, wet, 
sore, hungry, and scratched all over, — where, 
I have no doubt, her kind sister Peasie put 
her to bed and gave her hot milk and gruel. 


TOM TIT TOT 
I 


{Four Parts) 

A mother is sitting in her doorway with 
her spinning wheel beside her. Her daughter 
is in the room, setting the table for supper. 

84 


TOM TIT TOT 


85 

Mother. I am glad I baked those five 
pies this morning. I shan’t have to do any 
more cooking this week. 

Daughter. Won’t you ? 

Mother. Of course not, silly girl. Don’t 
you know that five pies are enough to last 
us two till Saturday? 

Daughter. Are they? 

Mother (crossly). Yes, they are. Come to 
think of it, I ’d like one for my supper. Go 
to the pantry and get one of them and put it 
on the table. 

Daughter. (Goes out and comes backl) 
Mother, you can’t. 

Mother. Can’t what? 

Daughter. Can’t have one of those pies 
for supper. 

Mother. I should like to know why I 
can’t have one of my own pies, that I baked 
this morning for my supper, if I want to. 
Go and bring the best of them, and let us 
have no more words about it. 

Daughter. Better or worse, you can’t, for 
I ’ve eaten them all, and that ’s why you can’t. 


86 


QUAINT OLD STORIES 


The mother is very angry. She says never 
a word, but turns back to her spinning and 
begins to sing, 

" Listen, every one, hear what I say, 

My daughter has eaten five pies to-day, 

My daughter has eaten five pies to-day. 

Listen, every one, hear what I say, 

My daughter has eaten five pies to-day.” 

Just then the king comes down the street. 
He hears her sing, but cannot make out what 
she is singing. So he stops and asks her. 

King. What was that you were singing, 
woman ? 

Mother (to herself ). Mercy on us, ’t is the 
king. I ’m ashamed to let him know how 
greedy my daughter is. What can I sing 
instead ? I know. 

" Listen, every one, hear what I say, 

My daughter has spun five skeins to-day, 

My daughter has spun five skeins to-day.” 

King. Stars of mine ! I never heard of 
any one who could do that. 

Mother. Didn’t you? (To herself) But, 
for that matter, neither did I. 


TOM TIT TOT 


87 

King. Look you here ! I want a wife, and 
I ’ll marry your daughter. But look you here 
again ! Eleven months of the year she shall 
have all the fine food she wants to eat, and 
all the gowns she wants to wear, and all the 
company she likes to have, but the last 
month of the year she will have to spin 
five skeins every day, and if she does n’t, 
she shall die. 

Mother. All right, Sir King, so be it. I 
thank you, Sir King. Will you see her? 

King. No, no. I cannot stop to-day. If 
she can spin five skeins in a day, she is the 
wife for me. I ’ll come again next week and 
marry her. 

The king goes out. 

Mother. What a grand marriage that 
will be for my daughter; and as for those 
five skeins, when she comes to it, there will 
be plenty of ways of getting out of it, and 
the most likely is that he will forget all 
about it. 


88 QUAINT OLD STORIES 

II 

It is the morning of the first day of the 
twelfth month, and the king has taken the 
queen to a little room in a distant part of 
the palace. In it there is nothing but a stool, 
a spinning wheel, and a big pile of flax. 

King. Do you remember why I married 
you ? This is the last month of the year. 
Tell me, have you had all the fine food you 
wanted to eat ? 

Queen. Yes. 

King. Have you had all the gowns you 
wanted to wear? 

Queen. Yes. 

King. Have you had all the company you 
liked to have ? 

Queen. Yes. 

King. Then I have done my part. Now, 
my dear, you must do yours. Five skeins a 
day, that was what you did at home, and that 
you must do here. Five skeins a day for a 
month. You will be shut in here to-day, and 
if you have not spun five skeins by night, 
you shall die. 


TOM TIT TOT 89 

With that the king goes about his business. 
The queen sits down and begins to cry. 

Queen. If only my mother were here! 
But what could she do? I thought he had 
forgotten about the skeins. I don’t so much 
as know how to spin. Why did n’t I heed 
when my mother tried to teach me ? But no 
one could spin five skeins in a day. 

And she cries harder and harder. All at 
once she hears a low knocking at the win- 
dow. She opens it, and a little man with a 
pointed cap comes hopping in. 

Little Man. What are you crying for? 

Queen. What ’s that to you ? 

Little Man. Never you mind, but tell me 
what you are crying for. 

Queen. It won’t do me any good if I do. 

Little Man. You don’t know that. 

Queen. Well, it won’t do any harm, if it 
can’t do any good. I ’m the king’s wife, and 
he married me because he thought I could 
spin five skeins in a day. He’s put me here, 
and told me that if I don’t spin that flax into 


90 


QUAINT OLD STORIES 


five skeins before night, I must die ; and I 
can’t spin at all. 

Little Man. This is what I ’ll do. I ’ll take 
it away and bring it back spun to-night. 

Queen. You will? But that’s no good. I 
must spin five skeins every day for a month. 

Little Man. I ’ll come to your window 
every morning and take the flax and bring 
it back spun at night. 

Queen. What ’s your pay ? 

Little Man. I ’ll give you three guesses 
every night to guess my name, and if you 
have n’t guessed it before the month is up, 
you shall be mine. 

Queen (to herself ). I ’ll be sure to guess 
it before the month is up. (To him) All 
right, I agree. 

Little Man. Give me the flax. 

Queen. Here it is. You will surely have 
it back in time, won’t you ? 

Little Man. As sure as my name is — 
(Claps his hand over his mouth) Mercy! I 
almost told you. I ’m off. (Jumps out the 
window) 


TOM TIT TOT 


91 


III 

At evening there comes a knocking at 
the window. She goes and opens it. The 
little man comes in with five skeins of flax 
on his arm. 



Little Man. Here it is. Now what’s my 
name ? 

Queen. Is it Bill ? 


92 


QUAINT OLD STORIES 


Little Man. No, it is n’t. 

Queen. Is it Ned? 

Little Man (dancing with glee). No, it 
is n’t. 

Queen. Is it Mark ? 

Little Man. No, it isn’t. 

And away he goes out the window. Just 
then the king unlocks the door and comes in. 

Queen. Here are the five skeins. 

King. I see you won’t have to die to-night, 
my dear. But you will have to come here 
to-morrow, and every day for a month, and 
spin five skeins of flax daily. 

IV 

Twenty-nine days have passed. It is the 
evening of the thirtieth. The queen is alone 
in the room. 

Queen. Oh, dear ! Oh, dear ! what names 
shall I guess to-night? Here it is the last 
day but one, and I have used all the queer 
names I can think of. Suppose I should n’t 
be able to guess! I never thought of that. 


TOM TIT TOT 


93 


He looks at me these last few nights in a 
way that makes me afraid. I wonder what 
he will do with me, and where he will take 
me. But still what could I do ? I must have 
the five skeins. It is late now. Suppose he 
should not bring them ! Suppose the king 
should come first ! 

Little Man. Here I am. What, have n’t 
you got my name yet ? 

Queen. Is it Nicodemus? 

Little Man. No, it isn’t. 

Queen. Is it Samuel ? 

Little Man ( hopping up and down). No, 
it is n’t that. 

Queen. Is it Methuselah? 

Little Man. No ! and there ’s only to- 
morrow night. Then you ’ll be mine. But I 
hear the king coming. 

He jumps out of the window. 

King. Well, my dear, the skeins all done 
again. Do the same to-morrow and you 
wo*n’t have to die. I think I ’ll sit down a 
minute to-night. 


94 QUAINT OLD STORIES 

Queen. What have you been doing all 
day ? 

King (laughing). I saw a funny thing. I 
was out hunting, and I came to a place in 
the wood that I ’d never seen before. It was 
an old chalk pit. I heard a kind of humming. 
So I got off my horse and went quietly to 
the edge of the pit and looked down. Well, 
what should there be down in that pit but 
the funniest little man you ever set eyes on ! 
He had a pointed cap on his head, and what 
do you suppose he was doing ? 

Queen ( breathlessly ). What ? 

King. He had a little spinning wheel, and 
he was spinning — wonderful fast, too. And 
as he spun he sang a song. That was what 
I had heard. 

Queen. What did he sing ? 

King. It was a funny tune. He sang it 
over and over. 

" Nimmy, nimmy not, 

My name ’s Tom Tit Tot.” 


TOM TIT TOT 


95 


V 

The next night the little man comes, grin- 
ning from ear to ear. 

Little Man. What’s my name? Tell me 
that, if you can. 

Queen ( pretending to be afraid). Tell me, 
is it Solomon ? 

Little Man. No, you ’ll never guess it. 
Two more chances and you are mine. 

Queen. Is it perhaps Zebedee? 

Little Man. No, no, it isn’t. Take time, 
woman. Only one more guess and you are 
mine. 

Queen ( laughing and pointing her finger 
at him). 

" Nimmy, nimmy not, 

Your name ’s Tom Tit Tot.” 

The little man jumps out the window with 
a terrible shriek. The queen is alone with 
the five skeins of flax, and the king is heard 
unlocking the door. 


SHEIK CHILLI 


Sheik Chilli — Master Chilli, we should 
say — lived in a village in the Simla district 
in India. One day he was walking along with 
a vessel of oil upon his head. As he walked 
he kept thinking of the future. 

" I will sell this oil, and with the money I 
can buy a goat. Then I shall sell the kids, 
and then I shall buy a cow, and sell the milk, 
till I get a large, a very large, sum of money. 
Then I shall buy a pair of buffaloes and 
a field, and plow the field, and gain more 
money, and build myself a house, and marry 
a wife, and have many sons and daughters. 
By that time I shall be a very grand and 
important man, and when my wife comes to 
call me to dinner, I ’ll say, 'Away there ! I ’ll 
come when I think fit.’ ” And with that 
Sheik Chilli threw back his head suddenly, 
with just the proud motion with which he 
intended to accompany his scornful speech 

96 


SHEIK CHILLI 


97 


to his wife, and down fell the vessel with the 
oil, and broke in a hundred pieces, and the 
oil was all spilled. 

This upset Sheik Chilli so much that he 
began to yell : " I have lost my goats ; I have 
lost my cows ; I have lost my buffaloes, and 
my house, and my wife and children.” 

That such dire calamity should befall a 
man caused great pity; so the bystanders 
took Sheik Chilli to the Rajah, who asked 
him how it had all happened. 

When he heard the story, he laughed and 
said, " This boy has a good heart. Let him 
be given a reward to compensate him for the 
loss of his oil.” 



THE RICH MAN’S GUEST 

I 

( Three Parts) 

The scene is the street of an Eastern city. 
A king is riding along with a servant. 

King. Who lives in that beautiful house ? 

Servant. O King, the richest man in the 
province lives there. He calls in every day 
his rich friends, and even strangers who are 
visiting in the city, and gives them the most 
wonderful feasts. 

King. And what does he do for the poor ? 

Servant. Nothing. 

II 

It is an hour later. The king, dressed as a 
poor man, comes along the same street and 
stops before the open door of the house, where 
the rich man is sitting watching for his guests. 

King. O great one, pray give me a little 
food, and let me rest in your beautiful home. 
I am hungry and tired. 

98 


THE RICH MAN’S GUEST 


99 


Rich Man. Get away from here. Get 
away, or I will call my servants to beat you. 
I will have no beggars hanging around my 
house. 


III 

The scene is the same, but it is the next 
day. The rich man is sitting at the door. 
The king approaches, dressed as a nobleman, 
with a fine cloak of silk. He walks slowly 
past the house. 

Rich Man ( rushing out to stop him). Ah, 
friend, I am glad indeed to see you. Will 
you not do me the honor, although I am a 
stranger to you, to come in and eat with me ? 
I should consider myself indeed fortunate if 
you would be my guest. 

King. I thank you. Since you desire it, 
I will come in and dine with you. 

IV 

The rich man, and the king in the guise of 
a nobleman, are sitting at a richly appointed 
table in a splendid dining hall. 


IOO QUAINT OLD STORIES 

Rich Man. It is a great pleasure to have 
such a man as you enter my home. Eat, my 
friend, of this food which is before you. 

King. I thank you. ( Takes food, breaks it 
into pieces, and puts them into the folds of his 
cloak.) 

Rich Man. You are acting very strangely. 
Why do you not eat the food ? Why do you 
put it in your cloak ? 

King. Because it is my cloak you are 
feeding, and not me. Yesterday I came to 
you dressed as a poor man, and you drove 
me away. To-day, because I have on this 
fine cloak, you make a feast for me. But 
( throwing back his cloak and showing the poor 
mans dress beneath it) I am the same to-day 
as yesterday — and every day your king ! 

Rich Man. Forgive me ! forgive me, O 
King! I have been proud and selfish, but 
from this day no poor man shall be driven 
from my door. You have taught me that a 
man is more than his clothes. 


THE BRAHMAN, THE TIGER, AND 
THE SIX JUDGES 

( Eight Parts ) 

A Brahman, part of whose religion it is to 
be kind to animals, is walking along the road 
in India. He comes to an iron cage, in which 
a great Tiger is shut up. 

Tiger. Brother Brahman, Brother Brah- 
man, have pity on me, and let me out of this 
cage for one minute, for I am dying of thirst. 

Brahman. No, I will not, for doubtless the 
villagers caught you and shut you up because 
you had been eating men, and if I let you 
out of the cage you will eat me. 

Tiger. Oh, father of mercy, in truth I will 
not. I will never be so ungrateful. Only let 
me out, that I may drink some water and 
return. I tell you I am dying of thirst. 

So the Brahman, who has a kind heart, 
lets the Tiger out. 

IOI 


102 


QUAINT OLD STORIES 


Tiger (jumping out), Ha! ha! I am out. 
Now I will kill you first and eat you, and 
drink the water afterward. 

Brahman. Wait a bit. Do not kill me 
hastily. Let us first ask the opinion of six, 
and if all of them say that it is just and fair 
that you should put me to death, then I am 
willing to die. 

Tiger. Very well. It shall be as you say. 
We will first ask the opinion of six. 

The Tiger and the Brahman walk along 
till they come to a Fig Tree. 

Brahman. Fig Tree, Fig Tree, hear and 
give judgment. 

Fig Tree. On what must I give judgment ? 

Brahman. This Tiger begged me to let 
him out of his cage to drink a little water, 
and he promised not to hurt me if I did so ; 
but now that I have let him out, he wishes 
to eat me. Is it just that he should do so, 
or not? 

Fig Tree. Men often come to take shelter 
from the scorching rays of the sun in the 


THE SIX JUDGES 


103 


cool shade under my boughs. But when they 
have rested, they cut and break my pretty 
branches and wantonly scatter my leaves. 
Let the Tiger eat the man, for men are an 
ungrateful race. 

Tiger. Ha! ha! I will eat you now. 

Brahman. No, Tiger, not yet; you must 
not kill me yet, for you promised that we 
should first hear the judgment of six. Come 
a little farther. 

Tiger. Very well. 

They go on their way, and after a little 
while they meet a Camel. 

Brahman. Sir Camel, Sir Camel, hear and 
give judgment. 

Camel. On what shall I give judgment? 

Brahman. This Tiger begged me to open 
his cage door, and promised not to eat me if 
I did so. Now that I have let him out, he is 
determined to eat me. Is that just, or not?. 

Camel. When I was young and strong, 
and could do much work, my master took 
care of me and gave me good food, but now 


104 QUAINT OLD STORIES 

that I am old, and have lost all my strength 
in his service, he overloads me, and starves 
me, and beats me without mercy. Let the 
Tiger eat the man, for men are an unjust 
and cruel race. 



Tiger. Do you hear that? Ha! ha! I 
will eat you this instant. 

Brahman. Stop, Tiger, for we must first 
hear the judgment of six. 

So they both go again on their way. At 
a little distance they find a Bullock lying 
by the wayside. 


THE SIX JUDGES 105 

Brahman. Brother Bullock, Brother Bul- 
lock, hear and give judgment. 

Bullock. On what must I give judgment? 

Brahman. I found this Tiger in a cage, 
and he prayed for me to open the door and 
let him out to drink a little water, and prom- 
ised not to kill me if I did so, but when I 
let him out, he resolved to put me to death. 
Is it fair that he should do so, or not? 

Bullock. When I was able to work, my 
master fed me well and tended me carefully, 
but now that I am old, he has forgotten all I 
did for him, and left me here by the roadside 
to die. Let the Tiger eat the man, for men 
have no pity. 

Just then an Eagle flies over the place 
where the three are talking. 

Brahman. O Eagle, great Eagle, hear and 
give judgment ! 

Eagle. On what must I give judgment ? 

Brahman. I let this Tiger out of his cage, 
and he promised not to eat me, but now that 
he is free, he wishes to. Is that just, or not? 


106 QUAINT OLD STORIES 

Eagle. Whenever men see me, they try to 
shoot me ; they climb the rocks and steal away 
my little ones. Let the Tiger eat the man, for 
men are the persecutors of the earth. 

Tiger ( roaring in a loud voice). The judg- 
ment of all is against you, O Brahman. I am 
going to eat you. 

Brahman. Stay yet a little longer, for two 
others must be asked first. 

After this they see an Alligator. 

Brahman. Here I shall get a different 
verdict. O Alligator, this Tiger wants to 
eat me. I let him out of his cage on the 
promise that he would not do so, yet now 
he says he will. Is that just or is it not? 

Alligator. Whenever I put my nose out 
of water, men torment me and try to kill me. 
Let the Tiger eat the man, for as long as 
men live we shall have no rest. 

Brahman. But one chance more. I fear I 
am lost. 

Tiger. Yes, I am going to eat you at 
once. Let us get this sixth question over. 


THE SIX JUDGES 


107 


Ask this Jackal who has been standing on 
the bank listening. 

Brahman. Ah, Uncle Jackal, did you hear 
my story? 

Jackal. Every word. 

Brahman. Give then a judgment. 

Jackal. It is impossible for me to decide 
who is in the right and who is in the wrong, un- 
less I see the exact position in which you were 
when the dispute began. Show me the place. 

So the Brahman and the Tiger return to 
the place where they first met, and the Jackal 
with them. 

Jackal. Now, Brahman, show me exactly 
where you stood. That will help my under- 
standing of the case. 

Brahman {standing by the iron cage). Here. 

J ackal. Exactly there, was it ? 

Brahman. Exactly here. 

Jackal. Where was the Tiger, then ? 

Tiger. In the cage. 

Jackal. How do you mean? I don’t seem 
able to see just how it was. 


108 QUAINT OLD STORIES 

Tiger. Why, I was in the cage. Don’t 
you see? 

Jackal. Yes, but how do you mean? How 
were you in the cage, and which way were 
you looking? 

Tiger {jumping into the cage). I stood so, 
and my head was on this side. 

Jackal. Very good, but I still seem un- 
able to judge without seeing things just as 
they were. Surely the cage door was not 
open ? 

Brahman. No, shut and bolted this way. 

Tiger. There! now you see just how 
things were. Do you understand it now ? 

Jackal. Perfectly, and if you will permit 
me to say so, you wicked and ungrateful 
Tiger, I think matters will remain just as 
they were. Come, friend Brahman, let us 
proceed. Your road lies that way, I believe, 
and mine this. 

They go off in opposite directions. 

Tiger. And I didn’t even remember to 
get my drink of water. 


THE TRAVELERS AND THE 
HATCHET 


Two men, traveling along a road, see a 
hatchet on the ground in front of them. 

First Traveler. Look here! See this 
hatchet I have found. ( Picks it up .) 

Second Traveler. Don’t say / found it, 
but we found it. As we are companions, we 
ought to share it between us. 

First Traveler. No, I saw it first, and I 
picked it up. It is mine. 

Man (; running after them). Stop, thieves, 
what do you mean by running off with my 
hatchet ? 

First Traveler. Dear, dear! I am afraid 
we are in for it now. 

Second Traveler. Nay, say rather / am 
in for it. When you thought you had a prize, 
you would not let me share it with you. Now 
you cannot expect me to share in the danger 
that comes from it. 

109 


THE SILLY OLD MAN 


The song that I ’m going to sing you, 

I hope it will give you content ; 

It is all about a silly old man 
That was going to pay his rent 

As he was riding along, 

A riding along the highway, 

A gentleman thief overtook him, 

And thus to him did say : 

" Well overtaken ! ” said the thief, 

" Well overtaken ! ” said he ; 

And " Well overtaken ! ” said the old man, 
" If thou be good company.” 

" How far are you going this way? ” 
Which made the old man for to smile. 

" By my faith, kind sir,” said the old man, 

I ’m going just two mita 

" I am a poor farmer,” he said, 

" And I farm a piece of ground ; 

no 


THE SILLY OLD MAN 


1 1 1 


And my half-year’s rent, kind sir, 
Just comes to forty pound. 



" And my landlord has not been at home, 

I ’ve not seen him this twelvemonth and 
more, 

Which makes my rent be large, 

I Ve to pay him fourscore.” 


I 12 


QUAINT OLD STORIES 


" My friend, how dare you ride alone, 

For so many thieves there now be ? 

If any should but light on you, 

They ’d rob you of all your money.” 

" If that they should light on me, 

I ’m sure they ’d be very ill-sped, 

For, to tell you the truth, my kind sir, 

In my saddle my money I Ve hid.” 

As they were riding along, 

The old man thinking no ill, 

The thief he pulled out a pistol 
And bade the old man stand still. 

But the old man proved not so silly, 

But that he had some wit; 

He threw his saddle over the hedge, 
Saying, " Fetch it if thou wilt have it.” 

The thief got off his horse, 

Being greedy for other folks’ gold, 

To search for the old man’s bag, 

And gave him his good horse to hold. 

The old man put foot in the stirrup, 

And he got on astride ; 


THE SILLY OLD MAN 


1 1 

He put the thief’s horse to the gallop; 

You need not bid the old man ride. 

" O stay ! ” cried the thief, " O stay ! 

And half the money thou shalt have.” 

" Nay, by my faith,” said the old man, 

" For once I ’ve outwitted a knave.” 

When he came to the landlord’s house, 

The old man was almost spent ; 

Says he, " Come show me a private room, 
And perchance I can pay my rent. 

" I ’ve met with a gentleman thief ; 

I ’ve changed horses with him on the way 
But his portmanteau rides so heavy, 

I think that perchance I can pay.” 

He opened the rogue’s portmanteau ; 

It was glorious to behold ; 

There were three hundred pounds in silver 
And three hundred pounds in gold. 

When the old man got home to his wife, 
And told her all of his fortune, 

She said, " If ever our daughter gets wed, 

It will help to enlarge her portion.” 


SIR BUMBLE 


Once upon a time a soldier died, leaving a 
widow and one son. They were dreadfully 
poor, and at last matters became so bad that 
they had nothing left in the house to eat. 

"Mother,” said the son, "give me four 
shillings, and I will go seek my fortune in 
the wide world.” 

" Alas ! ” answered the mother, " and where 
am I, who have n’t a farthing wherewith to 
buy bread, to find four shillings ? ” 

" There is that old coat of my father’s,” 
returned the lad. " Look in the pocket ; per- 
chance there is something there.” 

So she looked, and behold ! there were six 
shillings hidden away at the very bottom of 
the pocket. 

" More than I bargained for,” quoth the 
lad, laughing. " See, mother, these two shil- 
lings are for you ; you can live on that till 
I return; the rest will pay my way until I 
find my fortune.” 


SIR BUMBLE 


1 r 5 

So he set off to find his fortune, and on 
the way he saw a Tigress, licking her paw 
and moaning piteously. He was about to 
run away from the terrible creature, when 
she called to him faintly, saying, " Good lad, 
if you will take out this thorn for me, I shall 
be forever grateful.” 

“Not I ! ” answered the lad. " Why, if I 
begin to pull it out, and it pains you, you 
will kill me with a pat of your paw.” 

“ No, no ! ” cried the Tigress, “ I will turn 
my face to this tree, and when the pain 
comes, I will go at it.” 

To this the soldier’s son agreed; so he 
pulled out the thorn, and when the pain 
came the Tigress gave the tree such a blow 
that the trunk split all to pieces. Then the 
soldier’s son noticed that there was a box 
lying at the foot of the tree. The Tigress 
turned toward him and said gratefully, “Take 
this box as a reward, my son, but do not open 
it until you have traveled nine miles.” 

So the soldier’s son thanked the Tigress 
and set off with the box to find his fortune. 


1 1 6 QUAINT OLD STORIES 

Now when he had gone five miles, he felt 
certain that the box was heavier than it had 
been at first, and at every step he took it 
seemed to grow heavier and heavier. He 
tried to struggle on, though it was all he 
could do to carry the box, until he had gone 
about eight miles and a quarter, when his 
patience gave way. 

" I believe that Tigress was a witch, and 
is playing off tricks on me,” he cried, " but 
I ’ll stand this nonsense no longer. Lie there, 
you wretched old box ! Heaven knows what 
is in you, and I don’t care.” 

So saying, he flung the box down on the 
ground ; it burst open with the shock, and 
out stepped a little old man. He was only 
one span 1 high, but his beard was a span 
and a quarter long, and trailed upon the 
ground. 

The little manikin immediately began to 
stamp about and scold the lad roundly for 
letting the box down so violently. 

1 Span, the distance from the end of the thumb to the end 
of the little finger, when the hand is spread out. 


SIR BUMBLE 


II 7 

" Upon -my word!” quoth the soldier’s 
son, scarcely able to restrain a smile at the 
ridiculous little figure, " but you are weighty 
for your size, old gentleman ! And what may 
your name be ? ” 


" Sir Bumble ! ” snapped the one-span 
manikin, still stamping about in a great 
rage. 

" Upon my word ! ” quoth the soldier’s 
son once more, " if you are all the box con- 
tained, I ’m glad I did n’t trouble to carry it 
any farther,” 



1 18 QUAINT OLD STORIES 

" That ’s not polite,” snarled the manikin, 
" perhaps if you had carried it the full nine 
miles, you might have found something 
better; but that’s neither here nor there. 
I ’m good enough for you, at any rate, and 
will serve you faithfully, according to my 
mistress’s orders.” 

" Serve me ! Then I wish to goodness 
you ’d serve me some dinner, for I am very 
hungry. Here are four shillings to pay 
for it.” 

No sooner had the soldier’s son said this 
and given the money, than with a whiz ! 
boom ! buzz ! like a big bee (which, by the 
way, was the reason for his name) Sir 
Bumble flew through the air to a confec- 
tioner’s shop in the nearest town. There he 
stood, the one-span manikin, with the span- 
and-a-quarter beard trailing on the ground, 
just by the big preserving pan, and cried in 
ever so loud a voice, " Ho, ho ! Sir Con- 
fectioner, bring me sweets ! ” 

The confectioner looked round the shop, 
and out of the door, and down the street, 


SIR BUMBLE 


119 

but could see no one, for tiny Sir Bumble 
was quite hidden by the preserving pan. 
Then the manikin called out louder still, 
" Ho, ho ! Sir Confectioner, bring me 
sweets ! ” And when the confectioner looked 
in vain for his customer, Sir Bumble got 
angry, and ran and pinched him on the legs, 
and kicked him on the foot, saying, " Im- 
pudent knave ! do you mean to say you 
can’t see me? Why, I was standing by the 
preserving pan all the time.” 

The confectioner apologized humbly and 
hurried away to bring out his best sweets 
for his irritable little customer. Sir Bumble 
chose about a hundredweight of them, say- 
ing, " Here, tie them up in something and 
give them into my hand. I ’ll carry them 
home.” 

" They will be a good weight, sir,” smiled 
the confectioner. 

" What ’s that to you, I should like to 
know?” snapped Sir Bumble. "Just you 
do as you ’re told,” and he jingled the four 
shillings in his pocket. 


120 


QUAINT OLD STORIES 


" All right, sir,” replied the man, cheer- 
fully, tying up the sweets into a huge bundle, 
which he placed on Sir Bumble’s hand, fully 
expecting the little manikin to sink under 
the weight, when lo ! with a bim ! boom ! 
he whizzed off with the money still in his 
pocket. 

Sir Bumble alighted next at a corn mer- 
chant’s shop and, standing behind a basket 
of flour, called out at the top of his voice, 
" Ho, ho ! Sir Merchant, bring me flour ! ” 

When the merchant looked round the 
shop, and out of the window, and down 
the street, without seeing anybody, the one- 
span manikin, with his beard trailing on 
the ground, cried again louder than be- 
fore, " Ho, ho ! Sir Merchant, bring me 
flour!” 

Receiving no answer, he flew into a vio- 
lent rage and ran and bit the unfortunate 
corn merchant on the leg, and pinched him, 
saying, " Impudent fellow! don’t pretend 
you could n’t see me. I was standing close 
beside you by that basket.” 


SIR BUMBLE 


I 2 I 


The merchant, apologizing humbly for his 
stupidity, asked Sir Bumble how much flour 
he wanted. 

" Two hundredweight,” replied the mani- 
kin, " two hundredweight, neither more nor 
less. Tie it up in a bundle, and I ’ll take it 
with me.” 

" Your honor has a cart or beast of burden 
with you, doubtless ? ” said the merchant. 
" Two hundredweight is a heavy load.” 

" What ’s that to you ? ” shrieked Sir 
Bumble, stamping his foot and jingling 
the money in his pocket. 

So the corn merchant tied up the flour 
in a bundle and placed it in the manikin’s 
hand, fully expecting it would crush him, 
when, with a whiz ! and the shillings still 
in his pocket, Sir Bumble flew off — buzz ! 
boom ! bim ! boom ! 

The soldier’s son was just wondering what 
had become of his one-span servant, when 
with a buzz ! the little fellow alighted beside 
him, panting and wiping his hand with his 
handkerchief, as if he were dreadfully hot 


122 


QUAINT OLD STORIES 


and tired, and said anxiously, " Now I do 
hope I Ve brought you enough, but you men 
have such terrible appetites.” 

" More than enough, I should think,” said 
the lad, laughing, as he looked at the huge 
bundles. 



Then Sir Bumble cooked the griddle 
cakes, and the soldier’s son ate six, and a 
handful of sweets, but the one-span manikin 
gobbled up all the rest in no time, saying 
at each mouthful, " You men have such ter- 
rible appetites — such terrible appetites ! ” 


SIR BUMBLE 


123 

After that the soldiers son and his serv- 
ant Sir Bumble traveled ever so far, until 
they came to the king’s city. Now the king 
had a daughter called Princess Blossom, 
who was so lovely and tender and slim and 
fair that she only weighed five flowers. 
Every morning she was weighed in golden 
scales, and the scale always turned when 
the fifth flower was put in, neither less nor 
more. 

It so happened that the soldier’s son 
caught a glimpse of the lovely, tender, slim, 
and- fair Princess Blossom, and of course he 
fell desperately in love with her. He would 
neither sleep nor eat his dinner, and did 
nothing all day long but say to his faithful 
manikin, " O dearest Sir Bumble ! O kind 
Sir Bumble ! carry me to the Princess Blos- 
som, that I may see and speak to her.” 

" Carry you ! ” snapped the little fellow ; 
" that ’s a likely story ! Why, you are ten 
times as big as I am. You should carry me ! ” 

Nevertheless, when the poor soldier’s son 
continued to beg and pray, growing pale 


124 QUAINT OLD STORIES 

and pining away with thinking of Princess 
Blossom, Sir Bumble, who had a kind heart, 
was moved, and bade the lad sit on his hand. 
Then with a tremendous boom ! bing ! boom ! 
there they were in the palace. They lighted 
in the room of Princess Blossom. She was 
quite frightened for a moment to see a hand- 
some young man kneeling beside her, and 
began of course to scream. But she stopped 
at once when the soldier’s son, with the 
greatest politeness, and in the most elegant 
language, begged her not to be alarmed. 

They began to talk together in the most 
interesting way, while Sir Bumble stood at 
the door and did sentry duty, standing a 
brick up on one end between him and the 
young people, that he might not seem to pry 
upon them. 

But all at once a sound was heard in the 
passage. The king was coming to see his 
daughter, and had walked along so quietly 
that he was almost upon them. 

"Now what is to be done?” said Sir 
Bumble to himself all in a moment. " If 


SIR BUMBLE 


125 


the king finds my master here, he will have 
him put to death, as sure as my name is 
Bumble, but if I try to take my master 
away from the princess, ten to one he won’t 
go. I know, I will take them both.” 

So, without more ado, he put his hand 
under the couch on which they were sitting, 
and bim ! boom ! buzz ! carried it into a large 
garden outside the town. 

Before long the whole town was in a com- 
motion. Princess Blossom had been carried 
off, and all the world and his wife turned out 
to look for her. By and by a one-eyed chief 
constable came to the garden gate. 

Now Sir Bumble had set the couch down 
in the shade of the largest tree, and the 
young people were talking there as happily as 
if they had never been moved, and he himself 
had pulled up the next biggest tree by the roots, 
and thrown it over his shoulder, and was now 
marching up and down keeping guard, when 
the one-eyed chief constable came to the gate. 

" What do you want here ? ” cried valiant Sir 
Bumble, making passes at him with the tree. 


126 QUAINT OLD STORIES 

The chief constable, with his one eye, 
could n’t see anything save the branches, but 
replied, " I want Princess Blossom.” 

" I ’ll blossom you ! Get out of my garden, 
will you ? ” shrieked the one-span manikin, 
with his' one-and-a-quarter-span beard trail- 
ing on the ground. With that he belabored 
the constable’s pony so hard with the tree, 
that it bolted away, nearly throwing its 
rider. 

The poor man went straight to the king, 
saying, " Your Majesty! I am convinced that 
your Majesty’s daughter, Princess Blossom, 
is in your Majesty’s garden, just outside the 
town, as there is a tree there which fights 
terribly.” 

Upon this the king summoned all his 
horses and all his men, and going to his 
garden, tried to get in, but Sir Bumble with 
his tree routed them all. Half were knocked 
senseless, and the rest ran away. The noise 
of the battle attracted the attention of the 
young couple, and as they were sure by this 
time that they could no longer live without 


SIR BUMBLE 


127 


each other, they determined to run away 
together. So, when the fight was over, the 
soldier’s son and Princess Blossom set out 
to see the world. 

Now the soldier’s son was so enchanted 
with his good luck in winning Princess Blos- 
som, that he said to Sir Bumble, " My for- 
tune ’s made ! I shan’t want you any more, 
so you can go back to your mistress.” 

" Pooh ! ” said Sir Bumble, " that ’s all 
you know about it ! However, young people 
always think so ; have it your own way, only 
take this hair out of my beard, and if you 
should get into trouble, just burn it in the 
fire. I ’ll come at once to your aid.” 

Then Sir Bumble boomed off, and the 
soldier’s son and Princess Blossom traveled 
together very happily. At last they lost their 
way in a forest, and wandered about for 
some time without any food. When they 
were nearly starving, a Brahman found them 
and, hearing their story, said, " You poor chil- 
dren, come home with me, and I will give you 
something to eat.” 


128 


QUAINT OLD STORIES 


Now, had he said, " I will eat you,” it 
would have been much nearer the truth, for 
he was no Brahman, but an awful monster, 
who was dreadfully fond of handsome young 
men and slender girls for his dinner. Know- 
ing nothing of all this, the couple went home 
with him cheerfully, and when they arrived 
at his house, he said, " Please get ready what- 
ever you want to eat, for I have no cook. 
Here are my keys; open all my cupboards 
save the one with the golden key. Mean- 
while I go to gather firewood.” 

Then Princess Blossom began to prepare 
the food which she found in the kitchen 
closets, while the soldier’s son opened all 
the other cupboards. He found such lovely 
jewels and dresses and cups and platters, 
such bags of gold and silver, that his curi- 
osity got the better of his discretion, and, 
regardless of the Brahman’s warning, he said, 
" I will see what wonderful thing is hidden 
in the cupboard with the golden key.” So 
he opened it, and lo ! it was full of human 
bones. At this dreadful sight the soldier’s 


SIR BUMBLE 


129 


son ran back to Princess Blossom and said, 
"We are lost ! We are lost ! This is no Brah- 
man, but a horrid monster ! ” 

At that moment they heard him at the 
door, and the princess, who was very brave 
and kept her wits about her, had barely time 
to thrust the magic hair into the fire before 
the monster, with sharp teeth and fierce eyes, 
appeared. But at the self-same moment a 
boom ! boom ! buzzing noise was heard in 
the air, coming nearer and nearer. Where- 
upon the monster, who very well knew Sir 
Bumble’s power, rushed out of the house 
and changed himself into a heavy rain pour- 
ing down in torrents, but Sir Bumble changed 
into a stormwind beating back the rain. Then 
the monster changed into a dove, but Sir 
Bumble, pursuing it as a hawk, pressed it so 
hard that it fell to the earth and changed into 
a rose on a bush. Whereupon Sir Bumble 
changed into a breeze and scattered the petals 
in a shower over the ground. Changing back 
into his own form, Sir Bumble went down on 
his knees and gathered them up. But one 


130 QUAINT OLD STORIES 

petal, escaping, changed into a mouse. Where- 
upon Sir Bumble, with the speed of lightning, 
turned into a cat, which caught and gobbled 
up the mouse. 

All this time Princess Blossom and the 
soldier’s son were waiting in the house, 
when suddenly, with a bim ! boom ! buzz ! 
Sir Bumble arrived victorious, shook his 
head at them and said, " You two children 
had better go home, for you are plainly not 
fit to take care of yourselves.” 

Then he gathered together all the jewels 
and gold in one hand, placed the princess 
and the soldier’s son on the other, and 
whizzed away home, where the poor mother, 
who all this time had been living on the two 
shillings, was delighted to see them. 

Then, with a louder boom ! bim ! boom ! 
than usual, Sir Bumble, without waiting for 
thanks, buzzed out of sight and was never 
seen or heard of again. 

But the soldier’s son and Princess Blossom 
lived happily ever after. 


NEWS 
A Dialogue 

A master, coming back to his London 
lodging, finds the steward, who has charge 
of his household in his absence, waiting for 
him at the door. They stop and talk in the 
doorway. 

Master. Ha ! Steward, how are you, my 
boy? I am glad to see you. How do things 
go on at home ? 

Steward. Bad enough, your honor; the 
magpie ’s dead. 

Master. Poor Mag ! So she ’s gone. How 
came she to die ? 

Steward. Overate herself, sir. 

Master. Did she indeed ? She always was 
a greedy bird. What did she get that she 
liked so well? 

Steward. Horseflesh, sir ; she died of eat- 
ing horseflesh. 

Master. Horseflesh ! how came she to get 
horseflesh ? 


i3 2 


QUAINT OLD STORIES 


Steward. All your father’s horses, sir; all 
your father’s horses. 

Master. What! are they dead, too? 

Steward. Aye, sir ; they died of over- 
work. 

Master. And why were they overworked ? 

Steward. To carry water, sir. 

Master. What, pray, were they carrying 
water for ? 

Steward. Sure, sir, to put out the fire. 

Master. Fire! what fire? 

Steward. Your father’s house is burned 
down to the ground. 

Master. My father’s house is burned down. 
How came it to be on fire ? 

Steward. I think, sir, it must have heen 
the torches. 

Master. Torches! what did any one have 
torches for? 

Steward. At your mother’s funeral, sir; 
at your mother’s funeral. 

Master. My mother dead ? 

Steward. Aye, poor lady, she never looked 
up after it. 


NEWS 


J 33 


Master. After what? 

Steward. The loss of your father, sir ; the 
loss of your father. 

Master. The loss of my father! is my 
father gone, too? 

Steward. Yes, poor gentleman, he took 
to his bed as soon as he heard of it. 

Master. Heard of what? 

Steward. The bad news, if it please your 
honor. 

Master. What! more miseries ? more bad 
news ? 

Steward. Yes, sir, your bank has failed, 
your credit is lost, and you ’re not worth a 
shilling in the world. I made bold, sir, to 
come up to London and wait on you about 
it, for I thought, sir, you would like to hear 
the news. 



THE STONE OF GRATITUDE 
I 


(Six parts ) 

The king is seated on his throne at the 
end of a long room. His head is bowed in 
his hands. He raises it as a man enters the 
room. 

King. Who is it ? 

Wise Man. It is I, Sir King. You sent 
for me. 

King. Ah, yes. Come, sit here by me. I 
have something that I would ask of you. You 
were ever my father’s friend and counselor. 

134 


THE STONE OF GRATITUDE 


135 


Wise Man. Yes, Sir King, and would 
gladly be yours if I can serve you in any 
way. 

King. I am in sore need of counsel. It is 
six months since my father died and I was 
made king in his place. But tell me, O Wise 
Man, how can a blind man be king? I have 
thought and thought, and I have tried, but it 
is of no use. If I could only see, I could be 
a good king and help my people. But what 
can I do, being blind ? 

Wise Man. Nay, nay, my lad. It is a 
heavy burden that you carry, but you need 
not fear that you cannot be a good king. 
You have what is more precious than sight. 

King. And what is that ? 

Wise Man. A heart that reaches out to 
your people and longs to help them. There 
are more ways than one to be a good king, 
if that is your heart’s desire. 

King (wearily). But how can I find the 
way ? I cannot see if my people are unhappy. 
How can I know what they need ? 

Wise Man. You can hear. 


136 QUAINT OLD STORIES 

King. That is true. I had not thought of 
that. I can always listen to their sorrows 
and help them. You have helped me, O 
Wise Man. 

(i Claps his hands . A servant comes) 

Servant. I am here, Sir King. 

King. Fetch from the tower the great 
gong of brass, and hang it before my palace 
gate. Then go to my herald and tell him to 
proclaim in every village and town of my 
kingdom that if any one is wronged or is 
in need, he may come and sound the gong. 
Then will I listen to his troubles and help 
him. You understand? 

Servant. Yes, Sir King. I go to carry 
out your commands. 

( Bows and goes out) 

King. I thank you, O Wise Man. You 
have shown me the way. 

Wise Man. Nay, Sir King, not I, but 
your own good heart has shown you the 
way. The gratitude of your people will be 
your comfort and your reward. 


THE STONE OF GRATITUDE 


137 


II 

The scene is the same room. The king is 
reclining on a couch. The queen sits beside 
him. 

King. How quiet it is ! It must be an 
hour since the gong sounded. 

Queen. Yes, and I am glad, for you are in 
need of rest. The people have been coming 
with their troubles since early morning. But 
then, they always do. Sometimes' I wish the 
gong would be silent for a whole day. Think 
how it has been ringing these many years, 
morning, noon, and night. Do you never 
long to get away from the sound of it? 

King. No, for it is my way of coming into 
touch with my people. (The gong sounds .) 
There it is. 

(Enter a soldier .) 

Soldier. Sir King — 

King. Yes, who is it that seeks me? 

Soldier. A great, ugly Snake sounded 
the gong. Shall I not drive it away? 

Queen. A Snake! Who ever heard of a 
Snake coming to ask a favor of a king? 


138 QUAINT OLD STORIES 

King. But why not? The gong is for 
every one who is wronged or in need. Why 
not a Snake as well as a man ? Let the Snake 
come in and tell its tale. 

( The soldier goes out and returns , followed 
by the Snake.) 

Snake. O King, my hole is at the foot of 
yonder tall oak tree. There I lived with my 
little ones. This morning I went to get food 
for my babies. When I came back I found a 
strange beast at my hole. He had killed all 
my babies but one, which was hidden under 
a root. I cannot drive him away because he 
is covered with sharp needles. He will find 
and kill my last baby. O King, will you not 
drive this wicked beast from my nest ? 

King. Indeed I will. Soldier, go and drive 
away the porcupine that has slain the baby 
Snakes. 

Snake. O King, I thank you. I shall not 
forget this kindness. 

(The Snake and the soldier go out.) 

King. I am weary. I think I will sleep. 

Queen. I will call you if there is any need. 


THE STONE OF GRATITUDE 139 
III 

The king is asleep on the couch. The 
Snake comes in. 

Snake. Ah, he is alone, and asleep. That 
is good. I will lay one of these topaz stones 
on each of his eyelids. There ! it is done. 
Thus I thank the good king and pay him 
for his kindness to a poor Snake. ( Goes out .) 

King (waking). What is this on jny eyes ? 
(The stones fall off) Why, what has happened 
to me ? It is all light about me ! I can see ! 

Queen (hurrying in). What is it ? Are you 
ill ? I heard you calling, and your voice was 
strange. Your eyes look strange and bright. 

King. I can see ! I can see ! 

Queen. You can see? 

King. I can see. When I awoke I felt 
something heavy on my eyelids. I pushed 
off these stones, and behold ! I can see. 

Soldier (coming in with the Snake). Sir 
King, I found this Snake slipping away 
stealthily from your room. I had not seen 
her enter. I brought her back to see if she 
had done any harm. 


140 QUAINT OLD STORIES 

Queen. No harm, but good ! Did you 
bring these stones that have given the king 
his sight? 

Snake. Yes, it was the least I could do 
to show my gratitude to the good king for 
his kindness to a poor Snake. 

Soldier. He sees! I believe he sees! 

Queen. What stone is this ? It looks like 
a topaz. 

Snake. It is the topaz. 

Queen. Henceforth let it be called the 
stone of gratitude, that men, when they see 
it, shall call to mind this service which the 
Snake, out of gratitude, has done to her king. 

King. And that they may call to mind 
also the greater gratitude of the king to the 
Snake. The stone of gratitude it shall be. 



THE FLIGHT OF THE BEASTS 


Long, long ago there lived in a palm grove 
in the midst of a forest near the Western 
Ocean a timid little Hare. His home was at 
the foot of a coconut tree, beside which grew 
a young palm sapling. One day, after feeding, 
this little Hare came and sat down beneath 
the young palm tree. As he was sitting there 
in the shade of its leaves, he thought to him- 
self, "If this earth should come to an end, 
what would become of me, I wonder ? ” 

Just then a ripe coconut fell upon a palm 
leaf above his head. At the sound of it the 
Hare thought, "It has happened. This firm 
and solid earth is coming to an end,” and 
he started up at once and fled, without so 
much as looking behind him, for he dared 
not look back. 

Another Hare saw him scampering off, as 
if frightened to death, and called, " Why, pray, 
are you hurrying away in such a fright ? ” 


142 QUAINT OLD STORIES 

" Oh, don’t ask me,” he replied, scamper- 
ing along, but the other ran after him, crying 
out, "Tell me, what is it? Oh, what can 
it be?” 

Then the Hare stopped for a moment and, 
without looking back, said, "The earth is 
coming to an end. I heard it falling in.” 

At this the second Hare ran faster, and 
when they met a third Hare, the two called, 
" The earth is coming to an end.” So the 
third Hare ran along with them, as fright- 
ened as he could be, and before long they 
met a fourth Hare, and a fifth, and then a 
sixth, and all of them ran as fast as they 
could when they heard that the earth was 
coming to an end. 

Two Jackals saw the six Hares running, 
and called, " O honored ones, wherefore do 
you run ? ” 

" The earth is coming to an end,” called 
the Hares, but they did not slow down «in 
their flight, or look back. Thereupon the 
Jackals also took to flight, but they ran off 
in another direction. 


THE FLIGHT OF THE BEASTS 143 

The Monkeys, looking down from the 
trees, saw the Jackals running, and asked, 
" O honored ones, why do you run ? ” 

" The earth is coming to an end,” cried 
the Jackals. Thereupon the Monkeys also 
took to flight. 

The Deer saw the Monkeys running, and 
asking what was the matter, heard from them 
the news that the earth was coming to an 
end, and they took to flight; and the Boars 
ran because the Deer ran ; and the Buffaloes 
got the news from the Boars; and the Rhi- 
noceroses heard it from the Buffaloes; and 
the Bears from the Rhinoceroses; and the 
Tigers from the Bears. The Tigers met 
the Elephants and told them, and the great 
heavy Elephants went lumbering away 
through the forest, breaking down branches 
and young trees in their flight. They met 
the Lions and told them that the earth was 
coming to an end, and the Lions ran out 
of the forest to the foot of the mountain. 
There a wise old Lion with a heavy mane 
met them. 


144 


QUAINT OLD STORIES 


" My brothers,” he said, " wherefore do 
you all run in such terror ? ” 

" Do not stop us. We must run. The 
earth is coming to an end,” they cried. 

But he made them stop, and when they 
were all standing about him, he said, " Tell 
me, how do you know that the earth is com- 
ing to an end ? ” 

" We do not know,” they said, " but the 
Elephants know all about it. They told us.” 

" Wait here, then,” he said. " Do not run 
any farther. I will go and ask the Elephants.” 

But when the wise old Lion asked the 
Elephants, they said, " We do not know, but 
the Tigers know all about it. They told us.” 
And the Tigers said, " We do not know, but the 
Bears know,” and so it went till he came to the 
Jackals. They said, "We do not know, but 
the Hares told us.” Then the old Lion ques- 
tioned the six Hares, and they all pointed to the 
first little Hare and said, " This one told us.” 

" Who was it that told you that the earth 
was coming to an end ? ” said the wise old 
Lion to the little Hare. 


THE FLIGHT OF THE BEASTS 145 

" No one; I saw it myself,” said the little 
Hare. 

"Ah! it is true, then,” said the Lion. 
" Where were you living when you saw this ? ” 

"In a palm forest with coconut trees, 
close to the ocean, sir,” replied the little 
Hare. "As I sat at my home by the coco- 
nut tree, resting beneath the shade of a 
young palm tree, I thought to myself, ' If 
this earth should come to an end, what would 
become of me, I wonder ? ’ At that very 
moment I heard a dreadful sound, and I 
knew the earth was falling in, and I fled.” 

" It was the sound, then, that made you 
sure,” said the Lion to the little Hare. 

" Yes,” replied the little Hare. " It was 
such a dreadful sound that I knew at once.” 

The Lion thought : " What could the noise 
have been ? He was sitting by a young palm 
tree under a coconut tree. A ripe coconut 
falling on a palm leaf would make what would 
seem a dreadful sound to a little Hare. I 
wonder if it was that. I will find out the 
real truth of this matter.” 


146 QUAINT OLD STORIES 

So he said to the great herd of animals: 
" I will take the Hare and go and find out 
exactly whether the earth is coming to an 
end or not. He will show me the spot. Until 
I return, do you stay here.” 

Then, placing the Hare on his back, he 
sprang forward with the speed of a lion, and 
soon set the Hare down in the palm grove. 

" Come,” said the Lion to the little Hare, 
" show me now the place you meant.” 

" I dare not, my lord,” said the Hare. 

" Come, don’t be afraid,” said the Lion, 
kindly. 

The Hare did not venture to go near the 
coconut tree, but stood afar off, and cried, 
" Yonder, sir, is the place where I heard the 
dreadful sound.” 

So the Lion went to the foot of the coconut 
tree, to the spot where the Hare had been sit- 
ting beneath the shade of the palm tree, and 
just at that moment a ripe coconut fell upon 
a palm leaf, and the little Hare cried loudly, 
shutting his eyes tight in his terror, "My lord, 
my lord, that is the dreadful sound again.” 





147 


148 QUAINT OLD STORIES 

" I thought so,” said the Lion, and setting 
the Hare on his back, he returned with the 
speed of a lion to the herd of anxious animals. 

" Do not be alarmed,” he said to them. 
" The earth is not coming to an end. It was 
only an empty sound which the Hare heard, 
— the sound of a ripe coconut falling upon a 
palm leaf. It seemed very big to him, because 
he is a little Hare and he had been thinking 
a thought of fear.” 

So the animals were all reassured and went 
their several ways, and the wise Lion said to 
himself, " See how nearly the forest lost all its 
beasts through the fall of a coconut.” 




THE BARMECIDE FEAST 
An Arabian Nights’ Entertainment 

I 

( Three parts) 

The scene is in the East. A poor man, 
Shacabac, is standing in the street in front 
of a very magnificent house. A doorkeeper 
stands at the gate of the house. 

149 


QUAINT OLD STORIES 


150 

Sh ac abac. To whom does this splendid 
and magnificent establishment belong? 

Doorkeeper. Where do you come from 
that you ask me such a question ? Can it be 
that there is any one in Arabia who does not 
know that this is the palace of one of the 
Barmecide family? 

Shacabac. I am a stranger but lately 
come here, but even I have heard of the 
Barmecides. Are they not noted for their 
generosity as well as for their wealth? 

Doorkeeper. It is not for me, their serv- 
ant, to affirm or deny that report. 

Shacabac. But I pray you, as their serv- 
ant, give me an alms. I am a poor man, and 
having suffered many things on my way to 
Arabia, find myself now in want. Give me an 
alms, and thus shall I know for myself of the 
generosity of the Barmecides. 

Doorkeeper ( throwing open the door in the 
gate). Enter. None will hinder you. Proceed 
till you come to the master of the house. 
Address your request to him. 


THE BARMECIDE FEAST 


The scene is a hall paved with marble and 
hung with rich draperies. At its far end a 
man of handsome countenance and with 
long white beard is reclining on a couch. 
Shacabac enters. The man rises and comes 
to meet him. 

Shacabac. Are you the Barmecide, master 
of this house? The doorkeeper told me to 
seek him. 

Barmecide. I am he, my brother. Long 
life to thee, and welcome to my house. Thou 
seekest me. Can I perchance do something 
for thee? 

Shacabac. My lord, I am a poor man who 
stands in need of help. I swear to you that 
I have not eaten one bit of food to-day. 

Barmecide ( wringing his hands). Is it 
true ? Am I in the city, and thou in it 
hungry? It is a thing I cannot endure. 
Thou must stay and partake of my salt. 

Shacabac. O my master, I have not pa- 
tience to wait, for I am in a state of extreme 
hunger. 


152 


QUAINT OLD STORIES 


Barmecide. Ho, boy, bring the basin and 
water. ( To Shacabac) O my guest, advance 
and wash thy hands. 

No boy appears, but the Barmecide makes 
motions as if he were washing his hands. 
After a moment of surprise, Shacabac ad- 
vances and makes motions as if he, too, 
were washing his hands. 

Barmecide. Ho, there, bring the table and 
set it between me and my guest. 

He draws up his chair as if before a table, 
and Shacabac does the same. 

Barmecide ( making motions with hands 
and lips , as if he were eating). Eat, friend, 
and be not ashamed, for I know how thou 
art suffering from the violence of thy hunger. 

Shacabac ( aside , to himself ). Verily this 
is a man who loves a jest, and it is not for 
the poor to deny the rich their joke. ( To the 
Barmecide) Pardon me, my lord, you see I 
lose no time. ( Goes through motions of eating , 
as if a table were before him.) 


% 



N 





154 QUAINT OLD STORIES 

Barmecide ( making as if to lift something 
from the table). How like you this bread ? 
Is it not fine and white ? 

Shacabac. O my lord, in all my life I 
have never seen bread more beautifully white 
than this, nor of any sweeter taste. 

Barmecide. This was made by a female 
slave of mine whom I purchased for five 
hundred pieces of gold. ( Calling loudly) Ho, 
boy, bring us my special dish, the like of 
which is not found on the tables of kings. 
(To Shacabac) I pray thee, sample this. Eat 
all thou dost desire, for thou art desperately 
hungry and in absolute want of food. 

Shacabac (twisting his lips and chewing ). 
It is indeed a rare dish. 

Barmecide. I pray thee, therefore, give 
me the satisfaction of eating it all up, since 
thou dost like it so well. 

Shacabac. Nay, my lord, I have eaten 
enough of it. 

Barmecide (clapping his hands as if to call 
a servant). Boy, bring on the chicken stuffed 
with almond nuts. (Makes motions of heaping 


THE BARMECIDE FEAST 155 

it upon his guest's plate. ) Eat now of that, 
my brother, and tell me, hast thou ever tasted 
the like ? 

Sh ac abac. O my lord, verily this dish 
hath not its equal in delicious flavor. 

Barmecide. Eat more, then. 

Sh ac abac. Nay, I have had enough of the 
meats. 

Barmecide. Come, boy, bring in the sweets. 
( Pauses a moment .) Now, taste this dish, 
for it is excellent ; and these cakes, by my 
life! Take this one before the syrup runs 
from it. 

Shacabac. May I never be deprived of it ! 
Later you must tell me of what spices and 
sweets it is made. 

Barmecide. The spices are delicious, are 
they not? 

Shacabac. Excellent, but it is so rich that 
I can eat no more of it. 

Barmecide ( waving his hands). Take it 
away, then. But I pray thee, my brother, that 
thou deny not thyself, but eat and remain not 
hungry. Still, if thou desirest nothing more — 


156 QUAINT OLD STORIES 

Sh ac abac. Nothing more. 

Barmecide. I cannot tempt thee further? 
(. Turning as if to a servant ) Bring then the 
wines. 

Shacabac (aside, to himself). I will take 
part in this jest myself now, and make him 
sorry for his actions. 

Barmecide (making as though to pour out 
wine into a cup and to pass the cup to his 
guest): Take this cup, for it will delight thee. 

Shacabac. O my lord, how great is thy 
bounty ! 

Barmecide (putting back his head as if 
drinking from his cup). Tell me now, doth 
the wine please thee ? 

Shacabac (doing the same). O my lord, I 
assure you, I have never tasted wine more 
delicious. 

Barmecide. I am honored. Let me fill thy 
cup once again. 

Shacabac. It is not my custom to take a 
second portion of such strong old wine, but 
at your bidding — (Holds out his hand as if 
with a cup) 


THE BARMECIDE FEAST 


157 

Barmecide ( seeming to Jill it). I am 
honored. 

Shacabac ( having taken his second cup). 
Yet another, I pray you. (Seeming to reach 
out his hand with the glass in it , he gives his 
host a sharp slap upon his neck) 

Barmecide. What is this, thou rudest of 
men ? 

Shacabac. O my lord, I am your slave, 
whom you have graciously admitted into 
your abode, and have fed with your pro- 
visions. But you should not have treated 
me with old wine, for now I have become 
intoxicated, and have committed an outrage 
upon you. But this will be pardoned, for 
you are of too exalted a dignity to be angry 
with me for such a slip. 

Barmecide (laughing loudly ). Verily, for a 
long time have I made game of men, and 
jested with many persons, but I have not 
found among them any who could endure 
this trick of mine, excepting thee, and thou 
hast got back at me with a better jest of 
thine own. Now, I pray thee, pardon me. 


158 QUAINT OLD STORIES 

Be thou my companion in reality, and come 
with me to the feasting hall, where we will 
have in very truth all the dishes which thou 
hast so politely praised. Nay, more than 
that, having found a companion so suited 
to me, I shall not let him leave me. Thou 
and I will be friends for all thy life, and 
thou shalt dwell here with me. But come ! 
as I have said in jest, so now say I in 
earnest, " Thou art hungry.” 

Shacabac. Now shall I see a Barmecide 
feast in truth. 



LITTLE BESS, THE BALLAD GIRL 


The scene is the village green on a holi- 
day. Jugglers are doing tricks with balls; 
peddlers are wandering in and out of the 
crowd crying their wares ; young men and 
maidens are strolling about in holiday 
clothes of gay colors ; children are playing 
on the grass. At one corner of the green 
stands Little Bess, a pretty girl of fifteen, 
in dark dress with gay overskirt and ker- 
chief. She holds in her hand a basket full 
of printed ballads. She sings (or recites) in a 
sweet voice : 

Come round and buy, come buy, come buy 

A ballad of Little Bess; 

To please your taste I ’ll do my best; 

’T is all I can profess. 

(People begin to gather round her , ) 

1 This is in the form of a monologue, but each song-story 
may be acted by its own characters. 

159 












THE BLUEBERRY COURTSHIP 161 

Sweet maids, I ’ll tell of a maid who was true, 
And so to your lads you shall prove ; 

And youths, I ’ll give you good advice 
Of how to woo your love. 

So bright and gay my tales shall be, 

To cheer the friends who listen to me, 

To Little Bess, the Ballad Girl. 

( When the people have gathered about her , 
she recites , changing her voice for the three 
parts and acting them out in word and 
gestured) 

Little Bess. ’T is a Scotch ballad called 
"The Blueberry Courtship.” The lover speaks 
first. 

" Will you go to the highlands, my jewel, 
with me, 

Will you go to the highlands, the flocks for 
to see ? 

It is health to my jewel to breathe the sweet 
air, 

And to pull the blueberries in the forest so 
fair.” 


1 62 QUAINT OLD STORIES 

" Must I go to the highlands, my lover, with 
thee ? 

For the road it is long, and the hills they are 
high ; 

I love these green valleys and these sweet 
cornfields 

More than all the blueberries your wild 
mountain yields.” 

" Our hills they are bonny when heather ’s in 
bloom ; 

It would cheer a fine fancy in the month of 
June, 

To pull the blueberries and carry them home, 

And set on your table when December shall 
come.” 

Out spake her father, that angry old man, 

" You had best choose a mistress among your 
own clan ; 

It ’s but poor entertainment to our lowland 
dames 

To promise them berries and blue heather 
blooms. 


THE BLUEBERRY COURTSHIP 163 

" Kilt up your green pladdies, walk over yon 
hill, 

For a sight of your highland face does me 
much ill, 

For I will wed my daughter and give pennies 
too, 

To the one my heart please, — and that ’s not 
to you ! ” 

He went to his daughter to give her ad- 
vice, 

Said, " If you go with him, I ’m sure you ’re 
not wise ; 

He’s a rude highland fellow, as poor as the 
crow ; 

He comes from the north, and that ’s all that 
I know. 

" But if you go with him, you shall surely go 
bare ; 

No pennies of mine will I for you spare; 

Of all I possess I deprive you for aye, 

If o’er the hills, lassie, you do go away.” 


1 64 QUAINT OLD STORIES 

" Then, father, keep what you ’re not willing 
to give, 

For fain would I go with him, sure as I live ; 

What good could gold or treasure ever be, 

If the highland hills lay between my love and 
me?” 

Now is she gone with him, in spite of them all, 

Away to a place that her eyes never saw ; 

He had no swift steed to set her upon, 

But still he said, " Lassie, think not the way 
long.” 

On a warm summer’s evening they came to 
a glen ; 

Being wearied with travel, the lassie sat down. 

" Get up, my brave lassie, and let us step on, 

For the sun will go round before we win 
home.” 

" My feet are all torn, my shoes are all rent, 

I ’m wearied with travel, and ready to faint ; 

Were it not for the sake of your kind company, 

1 would lie in this forest until that I die.” 


THE BLUEBERRY COURTSHIP 165 



on, 

But we must go farther to come to my home.” 


1 66 QUAINT OLD STORIES 

The lassie replied, with a tear in her eye, 

" ’T is glad I would be in a barn to lie.” 

In a short time thereafter they came to a grove, 

Where his flocks were feeding in a great drove ; 

The Scotchman stood musing his flocks for 
to see ; 

" Step on,” says the lass, " there ’s no pleas- 
ure for me.” 

A fine shepherd laddie did now bend the knee, 

And two bonny lassies came forward to see. 

They said, " Honored master, are you come 
again ? 

Long, long have we looked for your coming 
home.” 

" Leave milking, my lasses, and go your way 
hame, 

I ’ve a swan from the south that I ’ve brought 
home to tame ; 

Her feathers are fallen, and where can she 
rest ? ” 

" Her bed in the house, it shall be the best.” 


THE BLUEBERRY COURTSHIP 167 

The lassie was so weary, she did not under- 
stand, 

Till many a lad and lass came to lend a help- 
ing hand, 

To give welcome to the lassie, to welcome 
her home ; 

Such a hall in the highlands she ’d never 
thought on. 

The laddies did whistle, the lassies did sing ; 

They made her a supper fit for a queen ; 

They made for the lassie a bed of soft down, 

And brought for the morning a fair silken 
gown. 

Early the next morning he took her up high,. 

And told her ’t was his as far as she could spy. 

" My lord and my master, why came you for me, 

For I am not worthy your bride for to be ? ” 

" How oft have I fed on your bread and your 
cheese, 

Else I should have gone hungry on a hand- 
ful of dry peas ? 


QUAINT OLD STORIES 


1 68 

May these lands and possessions my debt to 
you pay, 

You cannot go round them in a long sum- 
mer’s day. 

" In love we began, and in love we will end, 

And in joy and in mirth our days we will 
spend ; 

A voyage to your father right soon we will 
g°> 

And relieve the old man from his trouble and 
woe,” 

Little Bess gives a curtsy as she finishes 

her ballad. The crowd applauds, and calls 

for " More,” and " Another.” 

Little Bess. 

Come, all you young lads, that yet have no 
skill 

In wooing to get a fine lass’s good will, 

Come, list to this story, if you ’re minded to 
woo, 

For in it I will tell you what way not to do. 


THE WAY TO WOO 


I 


Lad. 

My daddy is dead and left me some land, 
(Lass, if you love me, tell me true) ; 
And ofttimes I must go to the barn, 

And I cannot get off every day to woo. 



I have barley to make into malt, 

(Lass, if you love me, tell me now) ; 

I have laid three herrings in salt, 

And I cannot come every day to woo. 


QUAINT OLD STORIES 


170 
Maid. 

What care I for your herrings in salt, 

Laddie, I ’d like ye to tell me true ? 

I care not a fig for your barley or malt ; 

So ye need not come here that way to woo. 

Lad ( more eager ly\ 

I have a house on yonder moor 
(Lass, if you love me, tell me now), 

Three sparrows may dance upon the floor, 
And I cannot come every day to woo. 

Maid. 

As little care I for your house on the moor, 
Even that, my lad, will not bribe me now ; 
Though fifty folk could dance on the floor, 

111 take me if that would bring me, too. 

Lad. 

I have a but and I have a ben 1 
(Lass, if you love me, take me now), 

I have three chickens and a fat hen, 

And I cannot come any more to woo. 

1 A but and a ben, an outer room and an inner room ; that is, 
a two-room house. 


THE WAY TO WOO 


171 

Maid. 

Brag no more of your buts and your bens, 
Laddie, that ’s not the way to woo ; 
Though ye had a hundred cocks and hens, 
They never would make me take you now. 

Lad. 

I have a hen with a crooked leg 
(Lass, if you love me, tell me now), 

Which every day lays me an egg, 

And I cannot come any more to woo. 

Maid. 

As for your hen with the crooked leg, 
Laddie, you ’re daft, I must allow ! 

Do you think that I can dine on one egg ? 
Indeed, you are making fun of me now. 

Lad. 

I have a calf that will soon be a cow 
(Lass, if you love me, tell me true), 

I have a pig that will soon be a sow, 

And I cannot get off every day to woo. 


172 


QUAINT OLD STORIES 


Maid. 

You say you’ve a pig that will soon be a 
sow, 

Laddie, I like the truth to tell ; 

When you brag of your calf that will soon be 
a cow, 

I ’m afraid you ’re but a calf yoursel’. 

Lad ( despairingly ). 

I have a huge cheese upon the shelf 
(Lass, if you love me, marry me now), 

I cannot eat it all myself, 

And I cannot come any more to woo. 

Maid. 

As for your cheese upon the shelf, — 

Hark, and I ’ll tell you how to do, 

You must talk of 7tothing but love for love , 
For that 's the way a young lass to woo. 

For if I could think you liked me well, 
Laddie, I tell you truly now, 

I ’d run my father and mother to tell, 

And blithely go off this night with you. 


SHOPPING 


l 72> 


Audience applauds ; Little Bess bows. 

Little Bess. I thank you, good people ; now 
I will show you how fine ladies amuse them- 
selves in London town. I am the fine lady 
starting out with her friend to play at shopping. 

This morning is so very fine, 

We to the shops will walk, 

And as we wander up and down, 

With shopmen we will talk. 

We ’ll look at ribbons, laces, gloves, 

And none of them will buy, 

But tell the clerks that wait on us, 

We ’ll call another day. 

Next to the merchants we will haste; 

We ’ll tease their silks awhile, 

And say we ’re vexed for troubling them, 
Then leave them with a smile. 

Hardware and pretty glittering things, 
How shall we them refuse ? 

We ’ll say they’re for a country friend, 
We therefore cannot choose. 


174 


QUAINT OLD STORIES 


Some brittle wares we must now see, 
Porcelain, china, glass, and stone ; 

We ’ll say they would crack, we ’ll say 
they ’re too dear, 

And we will of them have none. 

Now, after we are thus fatigu’d, 

Perfumes will give us ease ; 

We’ll visit all the scented shops, 

But nothing there shall please. 

From shop to shop we range about, 

And thus ourselves amuse ; 

Remember that it ’s just for fun, 

And therefore us excuse. 

(. Little Bess curtsies ; the people step forward 
to buy ballads .) 

Come round and buy, come buy, come buy 
These songs of Little Bess ; 

To please you now I ’ve done my best ; 

It is for you to do the rest. 


NOTES 


Sources. The sources of these tales are sufficiently indi- 
cated in the Contents, save in the case of two collections from 
which stories were taken almost verbatim. "The Sparrow 
and the Crow," "The Lambikin," "Peasie and Beansie," and 
"Sir Bumble" were found in "Wide-Awake Stories," by 
Mrs. F. A. Steel and R. C. Temple, published in Bombay in 
1884 ; " Sheik Chilli " is from " Simla Village Tales," by Alice 
E. Dracott, London, 1906. 

Kinds of Story. Traditional literature falls naturally into 
several broad classes: nonsense stories, fairy and folk tales, 
wisdom literature, myth, legend, and hero story. It is often 
helpful, in presenting a story to a child, to have located it in 
one of these classes. The reason for drawing, in a collection 
like this, from so many sources is that one nation has developed 
one kind of story to its most perfect form, another a different 
kind. Each class of literature will be found to perpetuate itself 
in each nation, thus indicating that it has a real place in human 
interest and human thought. 

From the nonsense rimes of Mother Goose the child turns 
naturally to the older stories which make the same appeal — such 
tales as " The Sparrow and the Crow," " The Lambikin,” " The 
Hedgehog," and "The Silly Old Man"; such dialogues, built 
upon an element of surprise or suspense, as " How Claus Won 
the Princess" and " News"; the drolls of "The Wise Men of 
Gotham"; and even the astonishing narrative of the deeds and 
adventures of Sir Bumble. From an educational standpoint 
these stories are useful because of their simplicity, their repe- 
tition of words, and their play on words. The swing of the 

. 175 


176 


QUAINT OLD STORIES 


language carries the child into reading without much conscious 
effort. They are delightful for dramatization because of the 
expression which a child will put into reading them aloud. 
He understands their humor and will enjoy reproducing it. 

Closely parallel to these nonsense tales, but with a very 
different basis, is the wisdom literature, in which the Orient 
excels. The simplest form is the proverb and the fable; the 
fullest expression is found in the typical Eastern " tale with a 
moral.” As this kind of literature is almost always very dra- 
matic, it has been given a full representation in this volume. 
Its subject matter has also a real value to children of this age. 
They do not object to a story with a moral, provided it is a 
good story. When the plot leads up naturally to the crisis, and 
the story points the moral in a quick, telling speech at the end, 
children respond readily. The humor in the little pig’s tale of 
his wanderings, in " Seeing the World,” and the unconscious 
irony of the mother pig’s " Well, to be sure ” teach their lesson 
of a narrow point of view — a lesson which the owl Wisdom 
in the Indian fable, and the discussion of " The Man’s Boot,” 
bring home in other ways. Four fables from yEsop have each 
its simple teaching. 

Both wisdom literature and folk tales might lay claim to the 
group of stories represented in this collection by " The Discon- 
tented Blacksmith,” "The Poor Man and the Rich Man,” 
" The Rich Man’s Guest,” " The Brahman, the Tiger, and 
the Six Judges,” and " The Stone of Gratitude,” which have all 
the qualities of a good story and still carry beneath their words 
a truth which is the occasion for their telling. We realize with 
surprise, as we go over the traditional literature of all countries, 
how much of this moral element it has. In our present search 
for ways in which to impress certain lessons upon children, we 
may well make use of the natural human story form in which 
the tradition of centuries has handed down these truths. 


NOTES 


177 


Dramatic Reproduction. The stories will be found to grow 
in possibilities for expression in reading and recitation. In 
" The Wise Men of Gotham ” the words and the acting carry 
the story. As we go on in the collection the interest depends 
more and more on a differentiation of characters, till in " The 
Barmecide Feast” the characters must be really studied and 
appreciated by the reader or actor to make his rendering of the 
words effective. This is true also of the verse dialogues grouped 
under the head of " Little Bess, the Ballad Girl.” They are 
put in for their quaintness, and for the chance they give for a 
high degree of excellence in reading and speaking with ex- 
pression. By the use of this book it is hoped that the child will 
come, under sympathetic training, from depending on his words 
and his actions to convey the thought, to putting his own inter- 
pretation into what he reads, which is the aim of all teaching 
of reading. 







* 













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